


Amends

by ariadne_bee



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard
Genre: Fixing Your Mistakes, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Heartache, Loki Has Issues, Magic, Revisiting Your Past, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-16 21:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_bee/pseuds/ariadne_bee
Summary: What if, instead of disappearing and reappearing as something new, Loki had to earn that change?Loki and Verity take a road trip. Only instead of actual roads, it involves magic, frozen drinks, cell phones, terrible puns, the things we can't face up to, the stories we tell ourselves, and, ultimately, what it means to become someone new.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete in seven parts. It starts just before the end of AoA issue #13 (you'll probably recognize the quote that starts it all off...) and takes a left turn from there. This all came from the opening scene and just went off the rails from there! I didn't expect it to turn into 25k words... but I hope you enjoy it!

“I’ll do my best. You’ll see me again, Verity.”

The call abruptly disconnected. 

“Loki? Dammit!” Verity stared at the screen of her phone, which was as blank as she felt. What the hell had _that_ all been about? Lies and stories and tricks and goodbyes. A shiver ran down her spine. Nothing good was going to come of this.

That was when the explosion rocked the building.

Verity knew exactly where that explosion came from, and she was flying down the hall and up the stairs in a moment, not even pausing to put on shoes, her striped socks slipping a little on the steps. She burst into Loki’s apartment, the door slamming open with a crash against the wall, and practically skidded to a stop.

Panting, she found herself face-to-face with the older, wrinkly, creepy-as-hell version of Loki. Oh, hell no, not right now. Her heart was racing with fear and adrenaline, and she found it all funneling into anger. "Where is he?" she demanded, her voice steady. "What did you do to him?"

To her surprise, Old Loki didn’t start his ranting and threatening act – he just gave her a shifty look and shuffled his feet, like he wanted to take a step backwards.

“What did you do to him?” Verity repeated. Old Loki just stared at her, as though he didn’t know what to say. In fact, he looked utterly – Verity had never actually seen someone look flabbergasted before, but she was pretty sure it was the only way to describe the look of shock on his face. And it wasn’t from her arrival; he looked like whatever his Evil Plan of Evil was, it was going horribly wrong. 

Before Verity could say anything else, she saw his eyes flicker to the ground, and she followed his gaze instinctively. That’s when she realized that he was standing over a smoking, blackened mess on the floor. It was charred in a sort of starburst pattern – like from an explosion – and it was sort of reddish-brown, under the burnt cinders. 

Verity stared at it in silence. The breeze blew in from the destroyed wall, stirring the shredded curtains that clung stubbornly to the window frames and swirling the greenish smoke rising from the ashes into little eddies. They twined around her ankles like ghosts.

She couldn’t find any words. Her chest was constricted, choking her out of breath; her heart pounding, her hands turning to ice. She couldn’t even think the words; her brain was empty, like a deafening void.

Suddenly there was laughter – vile, contemptuous laughter – and Verity’s head jerked up to see Old Loki’s face cracked into a ghastly grin. “That’s right!” he sneered. “That’s all that’s left of him – your _best friend!_ The one who _lied_ to the girl who _always knows the truth,_ the one who abandoned you in the end – he _burned._ He knew he would never be anything but the God of Lies, and it _burned_ through him, the knowledge that he could never, _ever_ change! That he would _always_ and _forever_ be–“

“Oh, just SHUT UP!” Verity heard herself shouting. A small part of herself was alarmed that she was yelling at an evil god – being – whatever, but she told that part of her brain to shut up too. “Just stop! I don’t need to hear your posturing bullshit right now! Do you know the kind of day I’ve had?”

Verity liked to think of herself as a relatively calm person. She was usually pretty rational – after all, if you could always see the truth, it was easy to remain unswayed by other people’s drama. And she didn’t usually swear very much; not for any real reason other than that she so rarely got that upset.

Verity was quite done with being calm, today. 

“It has not been a good day,” she practically growled, taking a step forward, glaring at the cause of her problems. “I thought it was taking a turn for the better, when my best friend owned up to being a total ass lately. Except then, it turns out, he winds up being forced to confess to what amounts to some kind of twisted murder-suicide pact with himself. Sound familiar?” 

He didn’t respond, just looked warily at her. 

“At which point, his brother–“ the word made Old Loki look vaguely nauseous, so she repeated it. “His _brother_ proceeds to beat the shit out of him in front of me, throwing him out the window, and then dragging him, battered and bleeding, into a _flying cart pulled by goats,_ off to god knows where. 

“And you know where I am during all this? Right here,” Verity snarled, raising her finger right in his withered face. “Left standing right here in this apartment, with the giant hole in the wall and everything trashed! And I wait, because I don’t know what else to do, and I wait, and finally I call the cops, because that’s what _normal people do_ when there’s a missing person. At which point he reappears in front of me. ON FIRE.” 

Old Loki looked surprised, and Verity wanted to punch him. Maybe she would, when she was done talking. She wasn’t usually violent, but might as well throw the baby out with the bathwater. “Is that a shocker? Yes, ON FIRE. In a freaking _pillar_ of fire. Did you miss that part? Because who shows up, barely _moments later,_ but his revolting future self. Yes! That’s you! Aren’t you SUPER THRILLED that I got to your part of the story?” Verity was furiously pleased to note that he did not, in fact, look happy. “So then I get the privilege of having his skeevy, batshit-crazy ‘future self’ taunt me and tattle on him and basically twist the truth into what you wanted.”

She paused to catch her breath, and Old Loki took advantage of the moment to leer at her. “Well. That is _rather_ my purpose for _being_ here, after all.”

“Well, good for you.” She glared at him. “So after I make the mistake of leaving my friend here with his horrid other self, my day continues to suck beyond belief when I try to call him to patch things up. We then have the world’s most depressing conversation, about how he thinks he is and will always be evil. And I know, I _know_ you are responsible for that.” She continued glaring at him – if her eyes could shoot fire, they would. And why couldn’t she have that superpower instead of the truth thing? 

Old Loki just stared at her, no longer smirking, which sent a vicious thrill through her, making her voice louder. “So then it only gets weirder, because I manage to talk him off the ledge with that; but then he’s telling me a bunch of stuff about changing and goodbyes, sounding like it might not even be me he’s talking to, and suddenly the phone goes dead and there’s an explosion and HERE YOU ARE, standing over what I can only assume is– is– it’s where he EXPLODED, isn’t it, and I DO NOT NEED YOUR SMUG BULLSHIT COVERING UP HOW FUCKING MISERABLE AND INSECURE YOU ARE!”

Verity was out of breath. She hadn’t meant to start screaming at him, but it was too much, too much to deal with in one single day. Loki had been her best friend, and now he was gone, and it was only hours ago that she was standing here taking off her coat as he told her how much she meant to him, and she couldn’t take this, she couldn’t. She couldn’t.

Old Loki was looking at her with a weird expression, somewhere between disbelief and something like fear. “You talked to him?” he asked.

“That’s your takeaway here?” Verity was starting to feel light-headed from shouting, her voice dropping back to normal. Her throat hurt. Everything felt unreal. She wondered vaguely if she was in shock. “Yes. I talked to him. And you are an utter and complete asshole, because–”

He shook his head, interrupting her. “You couldn’t talk to him,” he said, his scornful voice growing agitated. He took a step toward her, and another. “I was here. _He_ was here. He was, he was muzzled and bound! He was _burning!_ He couldn’t have talked to you.” His voice was rising, and he sounded frantic, like he was losing control. He was too close to her now. Dangerous and unhinged. “He could _not_ have talked to you!”

“He was _what?”_ Verity was literally open-mouthed in horror. “You – you –” She was frozen for a moment, shocked and wide-eyed at the mental image of her friend, imprisoned and helpless. She felt sick to her stomach, her mouth dry in that nauseous, about-to-throw-up way. “After everything– _after everything–”_

Anger was forcing its way up through her chest and into her throat; it felt hot, as though her blood was literally boiling. She felt like she was almost outside herself, watching as she balled up her fists, shaking with adrenaline and emotion. The little rational part of her brain screamed at her to _stop,_ but Verity was so far past _rational_ that it made no difference. 

Old Loki took another threatening step forward and reached for her. 

She launched herself at the God of Bullshit, headfirst. 

The last thing she saw before her elbow crashed into his abdomen was his expression of total astonishment – clearly, the last thing he’d expected this skinny little mortal girl to do was hit him first. Honestly? It was the last thing Verity could imagine doing, and she knew that catching him off-guard was the only reason she wasn’t dead yet.

Everything that followed happened in a rush of moments. Verity had never, ever been in a fight before, but she’d paid careful attention to the self-defense class she’d taken, and as instructed, aimed for his nose. She was supposed to bring her knee up, too, but he was too tall for her to reach her target; so she twisted instead and kicked him as hard as she could, catching him sideways in the knee. 

It was stupid, and pointless, since she knew she couldn’t actually do any real damage to him. But Verity didn’t care, because she _hated_ him, more than she had ever hated anyone in her whole life. She had had one friend – just one – and he took him away from her. Her foot connecting with his knee made him squawk, and his legs buckled. She hoped it hurt. She hoped it hurt a _lot._

Verity practically bounced backwards from recoil and exhaustion, staggering unevenly backwards until her hands hit the bookcase. Old Loki was half-slouched against the wall, panting – he’d been close enough to the wall that with her momentum and sheer force of anger, she’d slammed his back against it – but he was glaring at her now, his eyes boring into her with more hatred and malice than she’d never seen before. 

She was going to die.

His mouth was drawn into a thin line – no condescending smile, this time. “You _dare,”_ he hissed.

Verity swallowed. Fuck it. “I _dare,”_ she said, meeting his stare, her head up, shoulders back. If she was going to die, she wasn’t going to cower. “Fuck. You.”

He pushed himself slowly off the floor, sliding himself up the wall toward standing. Green magic began to crackle around him, around his hands, growing brighter. “I would say that you would live to regret that,” he said, his voice low and violent. “But you’d know I was lying.”

She gripped the bookshelf behind her with both hands. She was going to die, here, in Loki’s apartment. Where he had died too. She wondered if there would be anything left of her, or just another ruined blotch on the carpet. She was going to die, and she really didn’t want to die, and the thought made her start shaking, her eyes burning. What did people think about for comfort in the face of death? That they would see their loved ones again? She felt a bit hysterical. Would she see Loki? Had he gone to some Viking Valhalla where she couldn’t follow? Would she end up somewhere with a bunch of Vikings?

Old Loki was standing now, the green wisps of smoke curling up from the floor around him as if drawn to the magic glittering in his hands. Verity looked up into his face, and somehow, under the wrinkles and psychopathic fury, she saw the resemblance to Loki, to “her” Loki. This Loki – this horrible facsimile – was stalking toward her now, slowly, predatorily; and yet, for a moment, she could see that once he had been _Loki_ – a different Loki, maybe not _her_ Loki, but not this one. It was enough to inspire sympathy, maybe, or empathy, for all he had gone through, that had made him this way. 

But not in her. She felt nothing but disgust, and anger; and Verity desperately, desperately wished that her Loki was here.

He raised his hand, vicious magic glowing brightly, his mouth curving into a murderous smile; but a voice from behind him interrupted. “You’re not going to do that.”

Old Loki spun around with a wild cry, and flung the handful of green energy at the figure standing in the smoke. No – Verity stared, incredulous. The figure _was_ the smoke, still forming out of the spiraling mist, and the magic missiles or whatever they were flew right through him just before he fully materialized. Loki – the right Loki, the one who made her dinner and stole her nail polish, _her Loki_ – stepped forward, nothing left of the smoke but tiny wisps that dissipated around his feet. He shook his head. “That’s not how this goes.”

“You!” Old Loki pointed an overdramatic shaking hand at his younger self. “Unbelievable! You _blow yourself up,_ and then _reappear_ in a puff of smoke? You are a _literal_ deus ex machina!”

Loki shrugged. “We all have our roles to play.”

“And what do you think _yours_ is?” Old Loki spat. “Are you the _hero?_ Appearing just in time to save the fair maiden from the moustache-twirling _villain?”_

“You don’t actually have a moustache,” Loki pointed out calmly. “And it seemed to me like the ‘maiden’ pretty much kicked your ass without my help.”

“I was just about to kill her!” the other Loki complained. “And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for you meddling kids.”

Loki just shook his head again. “That reference doesn’t even work in this context. You’re just grasping at straws,” he sighed. “Maybe you need a time out, to come up with some better lines.” 

Verity choked on what could have been a laugh as Old Loki spluttered indignantly. “What? You don’t seem to understand–”

“I understand perfectly,” Loki said, a hard edge sliding into his voice. “I understand exactly what you’ve been doing – that you’ve been sliding back and forth between stories, rewriting bits and pieces at will, trying to turn them to your advantage. What did you really think you’d accomplish?” he asked, taking another step toward his other self. “If you succeeded in changing my future, how could you continue to exist? Here’s my reading: I think you were trying to Back to the Future yourself out of existence. You’re so unhappy.” The words might have sounded pitying, coming from someone else, but to Verity, Loki just sounded resigned. “You’ve spent so long being so miserable, convinced of your role in this story, that you’re willing to try and change things – try and force me to play your role early enough to ‘win’ – even though it would mean that you would cease to exist. Because you see it as the only possible way to escape the hell of your own making.”

“You’d know a lot about that, wouldn’t you,” the other Loki hissed. “You, who stand there in the same stolen skin that I wear. You, who think there is only one crime that cannot be forgiven. You! Who tried to have all your mistakes erased! While you still live with the guilt every day! While you still make the same mistakes, over and over, because you are _Loki,_ and you will always be _Loki,_ and you know that even if you somehow escaped my future, that you would never be able to change, never be able to be better, because you will always be LOKI!” His voice rose to a fever pitch, ringing loud in the hollowed out room. “You know just as much as I do about self-hatred and living in hell, because even if I am not your future, _you are my PAST!”_

The silence, after his deafening rant, was almost eerie. The wind blew in from the shattered wall, barely huffing out a sound as it stirred the detritus around them. In the dim yellow light of the street, the older Loki was literally backed into a corner, the younger Loki standing before him, his face shadowed and unreadable.

And then he smiled. Verity’s heart leapt at the familiar expression. “You’re right,” he said, “I do know all about self-hatred and living in hell. But you’re not right about everything.” Old Loki’s face had lit up in bitter victory, but his glee began to falter a bit. Loki looked down at the charred mess on the carpet, and gingerly poked at the stain with his foot. “Ew. That _was_ me, you know,” he said. “You were here. I exploded. This–“ he scuffed his toe against the burnt residue “–is all that is left of that me. Of the body that I stole,” he said, softly, his voice full of regret. “That Loki was a better person than me. But when I stepped into him… well, _you_ know,” he said, addressing his other self. “Things changed. I couldn’t be who I was. And you can tell the story all you want about how I betrayed my friends, and I did. _You_ did. But we helped save them in the end. The Loki that burned? He wouldn’t have. Ikol?” Verity had no idea what the hell that was supposed to mean, but it made the other Loki grimace. “He wouldn’t have either.”

“So what?” Old Loki’s glee had turned to sullenness.

“So I will always be grateful to _him_ for that,” Loki said. Verity was starting to lose track of which Loki he was talking about. “And you should be too. You are only here by virtue of that boy, by the way his blood changed you. And the blood must have payment,” he said, as if quoting something. “The blood had to have fire.”

“Fire, fire, fire. Hot damn,” Old Loki singsonged. “Call the police and the fireman.”

Loki ignored him. “You were the one who tried to burn me, to burn what was left of _him_ out of _me_. I just finished the job,” he said. “I let that body turn to ash, as it should have so long ago. But you know how that goes!” A sly smirk played over his face. “We’re gods. Living stories.”

“Symbol and metaphor,” his other self grumbled, almost inaudibly. It had only been hours ago that he’d treated Verity to that little speech – she hadn’t forgotten it either.

“And you can’t keep a good story down!” Loki gestured to himself. “So here I am. But not that Loki,” he said, looking back down at the floor and then up at Verity, looking her in the eye for the first time since he’d materialized. “Not that me.”

“But you,” she said, suddenly desperately afraid. “You’re still Loki.”

“I am always Loki,” he said seriously. “Didn’t you hear him? I will always be Loki. I am always myself,” he said, turning back to Old Loki. “But I am not your past. We were the same, at one point; but once you slid through the panels of your own story? You changed it into mine. And as for never being anything else? What I didn’t realize until now – what you never realized, because you never had a friend to remind you of it – is that I am already something else. As are you,” he said, stepping in close to his other self. “And once you start to change, you can’t stay in the past at the same time. You can’t hold out that you’ve changed, when you’re still wearing the same skin. You have to risk burning up to see what you come back as.”

“You went into oblivion with nothing but the hope that there was something out there?” Old Loki’s voice was mocking, as if it was an inside joke that Verity wasn’t in on.

But Loki just smiled, looking over at Verity, and there was victory in his eyes. “Nope. I knew that someone would show me the path home.”

“Not much of a home left,” she said, nodding at the trashed apartment.

“Meh,” was all he said, looking unconcerned.

Old Loki took a step forward, so that they were within an arm’s length of each other. “Are you kidding me?” he blustered, expansively waving his arms and making Loki dodge to avoid a sweeping gesture. “You can’t just dismiss this whole thing, dismiss _me,_ just because you decided to blow yourself up! We had _plans!_ We were going to rule the ten realms together! And now, what – you think I’m going to give up on all that, give up on youuuu,” he flashed a momentary saccharine smile, “just because _you_ think you’re different now? That you’re _better_ than me? I still wield more power than you do, boy! I have had _centuries_ to hone my magic, endless time to _perfect_ the gifts that you have forgone! I can make you _burn!”_

Verity froze, expecting him to blast some kind of magic toward Loki again; but instead, as he said the last word, he merely snapped his fingers. Some sort of crackling aura surrounded Loki, and Verity gasped as panic rose in her chest. But Loki looked unfazed, contemplating the fizzing air for a moment, and then with a deft flick of his fingers, the whole thing rippled and vanished.

“WHAT?!” Verity could almost hear the punctuation in Old Loki’s hysterical voice.

Loki shrugged. “Eh. I’m kind of done with burning, right now. There’s been a lot of fire. I’m considering a nice beach vacation, actually, doing some swimming. Spending some time with the other elements. Water. Sand. Maybe a nice breeze.” He took the last step toward the other Loki, closing the space between them. “You could do with a vacation yourself,” he said, in the same pleasant voice. “But I’m thinking, maybe somewhere else. Maybe back in the All-Mother’s special suite for you. At least until you and she have a chance to have a nice chat.” He reached out and rested a finger against the other Loki’s chest. “Maybe you can tell her a better story than the one you told me. In the meanwhile, I’m going to rewrite mine, starting with the fact that you are no longer permitted in this building.” Old Loki made a strangled noise, and looked down at his hands in panic. Verity realized that he was actually fading away. “See? It’s like a good vampire story. You’re disinvited from this building. Did you ever see Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Of course you did, I was you for that.” Loki grinned, then shook his head at his still-fading older self. “Oh, this is taking way too long.” He snapped his fingers, and Creepy Future Loki vanished. “There. Much better. End of Chapter One.”


	2. Chapter 2

Verity could feel the splintery wood of the bookshelf under her hands. She gripped it tighter, because it felt like the only thing tethering her to reality. Minutes ago, she was face-to-face with certain death. Now, instead, she was face-to-face with Loki: Loki, who had exploded and yet had somehow reformed out of green smoke. “Are you– real?” she asked. Her throat was dry and her voice came out like a scratched record.

He smiled at her. “I’m real.” Loki took three steps toward her, closing the distance between them, and rested his hand on her shoulder. It felt solid, and warm, and Verity choked out a sigh that was nearly a sob. She burst forward, hugging him and burying her face in his shoulder. He hugged her back, and stinging tears finally escaped under her closed eyelids.

It felt like a long time that they stood there, unmoving, the room quiet except for the whisper of breeze blowing in from the street and the faraway sound of traffic. Verity could hear her own hiccuping breath as it slowed back to something like normal. She stepped back, wiping at the spot where her tears had darkened his coat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He looked around at the destruction surrounding them. “Wow.”

She nodded. “It’s not great.”

“I liked that TV,” Loki said mournfully. “And I’m guessing the Xbox is beyond repair. All my save games,” he explained, to Verity’s confused expression.

“But,” she said slowly, “that’s your biggest concern? Your saved games?”

“Hey, I put in a lot of time into Call of Duty,” he said, as she looked at him incredulously. “Besides, the rest is fixable.”

Loki gestured at the enormous hole smashed through the wall with some kind of complicated handwave, and as Verity watched, the demolished wall and shattered window slid back into place, the broken fragments vanishing from the floor. She blinked, realizing her mouth was hanging open and closing it so suddenly that her teeth clicked together. “Oh,” was all she could think of to say.

“I fixed that window once before,” he said offhandedly, looking around the demolished room. “Remember? Sigurd kicked me through it.”

“Right,” Verity said faintly. Her head was starting to hurt. All the shock and panic and grief was ebbing away, leaving her exhausted. All she really wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep and hope that when she woke up, everything would be back to normal. Normal. Ha. Or whatever passed for normal, since she met Loki, anyway.

Loki suddenly narrowed his eyes at her. “You need to sit down,” he said. She nodded, looking at the overturned furniture. One of the legs of the sofa was broken, but she didn’t care if it wobbled. If Loki could repair a wall, surely he could fix furniture, or at least flip it back upright. Hell, he should be able to do that the normal way. He wasn’t looking at the couch, though. “Come here.”

She squinted at him in tired confusion, but obediently took a few steps toward him, hoping he was going to turn over the sofa or even the somewhat uncomfortable armchair. But instead, Loki pulled her toward him, wrapping an arm firmly around her waist. Too surprised to react, Verity automatically put her hand up against his chest. “Close your eyes,” he said. Verity did so, hoping he knew what he was doing.

There was a rush of cold, as though being washed over by something between wind and water, and then a feeling that was almost but not quite like the sensation of falling at the edge of sleep, and Verity pinched her eyes shut even more against the threatening dizziness. And then suddenly she was surrounded by warmth, the perfect temperature, and she realized she could feel the ground under her feet again. When had it not been there?

“You can open your eyes now,” Loki’s voice said. She hesitated a moment, and then opened her eyes, blinking against the suddenly bright sunlight. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she stared for a moment, and then brought her hands up to rub her eyes under her glasses. 

When she opened them again, nothing had changed. They were still standing at the edge of an ocean. At least, Verity assumed it was an ocean from the pleasant tang of salt water on the breeze. The waves rolled gently against the shoreline, and the ground under her sock feet was pristine white sand. “I have clearly passed out,” she said, when she could finally find words. “Or possibly died. Which makes a lot more sense than you reappearing and taking me to – where are we?”

Loki laughed. “I was serious when I said I was thinking about the beach,” he said. “And you look like you need to rest.”

“I was thinking on the sofa,” Verity said, “not on a desert island. Are we on a desert island?”

“Well, it’s not Waikiki,” Loki said. “But it has all the amenities.” He waved behind her, and as Verity turned around, two beach chairs winked into existence. They were definitely the poshest beach chairs Verity had ever seen, cushioned, with padded armrests and reclining backs, resting under an enormous striped umbrella. There was a wicker table set between the chairs, with two curvy glasses filled with some kind of frozen drinks that were topped off with pineapple and a cherry and a little paper umbrella.

“Seriously?” she asked.

“Yep. Tropical beach vacation, made to order.”

Verity sat down on the closer chair, which turned out to be exactly as comfortable as it looked. Without even thinking about it, she curled up against the cushy armrest and dropped into sleep.

 

When she opened her eyes, the sun had changed position, but not by much. She couldn’t have been asleep long, but from how much better Verity felt, it could have been a full night’s sleep. She yawned and stretched, turning to look at the chair next to her. 

Loki was leaning back in his chair, bare feet stretched out in front of him, gazing down at his phone, but at her movement he looked up. “Have a good nap?”

“Actually, yes.” She nodded at his phone. “Are you actually getting reception here?”

He held it up so that she could see the small shapes dancing around the screen. “Just games. Who would I talk to except you?” 

Verity shrugged, feeling guilty, but he didn’t seem affected at all. She shifted, sitting up more, and saw a glass of water had appeared on the table next to the other two glasses. She hadn’t realized she was thirsty until then, and drank half of it down; it was perfectly cold, ice cubes clinking pleasantly against the glass. When she set it back on the table, she saw that Loki’s drink was half-empty and pineapple-less, but hers was still exactly as frozen as when she’d fallen asleep. “Magical daiquiris,” she said, grinning.

“You’re welcome.” Loki leaned toward her, his elbow on the armrest, as she picked up her drink and took a sip. Mmm. Strawberry daiquiri. No, strawberry-lime? Coconut? Whatever it was, it was very cold and very good. “So. Can I have your pineapple?” Verity shook her head and promptly popped it into her mouth. “So ungrateful.”

“Magic yourself up another one,” she said through a mouthful of sweet, perfectly ripe pineapple. “And one for me too.” Loki rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, and she grinned again and took another icy sip. “This is nice,” she said, idly spinning the paper umbrella and meaning the whole getaway. “Thank you.”

Instead of answering, Loki leaned over and set a dish of pineapple on the table that hadn’t been in his hand a moment before. “I meant it about the fire thing,” he said cheerfully. Verity didn’t hear it in his voice, but he had to be at least as emotionally drained as she was. Didn’t he? “Water. Water is good.”

He didn’t look worn out at all, though, as he pushed himself forward off the chair, padding barefoot across the sand toward the water. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, which Verity knew he hadn’t been wearing when they got to the beach, and with his hair loose and flopping in his eyes, he looked vaguely like an otherworldly surfer boy. It was odd, Verity thought, watching him; usually he gave off more of a clean-cut-boy-band-member vibe than possibly-owns-a-wood-bead-necklace-and-hackey-sack vibe.

Loki waded into the water until it was lapping at his ankles, then turned and waved at her. “Come on,” he called impatiently, scuffing his feet and splashing in the shallow water.

Verity slid down to the edge of her chair, peeling her sandy socks off her feet. She dug her toes experimentally into the sand – of course it was warm and soft as velvet. She wiggled her toes happily, ignoring the increasingly imperious demands from the water, and then leaned down to roll up the hem of her pink skinny jeans. They didn’t cuff very well, but she got them above her ankles, and then pushed ineffectively at her sleeves, which immediately slid back down. 

“Verity!” Loki’s voice was somewhere between wheedling and whining, and yet it was so _Loki_ that it made her smile. “You’re taking too long.” From across the sand, he snapped his fingers, and Verity found herself wearing pink shorts and a black t-shirt that looked almost exactly like summer versions of the clothes she had been wearing.

“I like those jeans,” she admonished Loki as she reached the water’s edge. She toed the wet sand, watching it swirl in the shallow water. “You’d better be able to put those back how they were.” 

“Want me to do it right now?” he asked, grinning, as he caught her by the hand and pulled. 

Verity laughed, stumbling a little and splashing as she followed him further into the water, until it was nearly to her knees. “No, that’s okay. I’m good.” He dropped her hand, suddenly distracted by something near his feet. Verity watched him as he peered into the clear water. Now that she wasn’t in shock or half-asleep, she was really looking at him for the first time since the whole reforming-out-of-green-smoke thing. “Something’s different about you,” she said. “What is it? Are you taller?” 

In response, Loki reached down and pulled a shell out of the water. “I almost stepped on this,” he said, holding it out to her in his open palm. The shell was a pretty cream-and-white patterned spiral, not even a chip in it, ending in a sharp point. “That would have hurt. Plus, it would have been a shame to break something so perfect.”

“That’s true,” Verity said patiently. “So why do you look different? And then there’s the teleporting, or whatever it was. The clothes. The drinks. Not that I’m complaining at all about the impromptu tropical escape – but suddenly, you’re all about the magic. Why now?” Loki was scanning the water, presumably for another shell. “What happened?”

“Did you know there are a lot of stories about shells?” he said, not looking up. “One of the Polynesian gods had a shell that could turn into a boat, to travel between islands. The Greek sea-god Triton blew into a conch shell, like this one but bigger, to calm the waves or stir them up.”

“Loki, you’re avoiding my questions,” Verity said, less patiently. “Answer me. What happened?” A sudden realization made her stomach turn. “You said, you’re not ‘that Loki” – are you…” She hadn’t been afraid, until now; but suddenly the warm beach that had been a relaxing escape felt as though it could be a trap closing in. “Who are you?”

Something in her voice finally made Loki look up from his search, his expression filled with concern. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, stepping closer to her. “I wanted you to have some time to relax, because you deserve it. A little break in the narrative before we get back to the main plot.”

She wasn’t quite sure what that was all about, but he was telling the truth. “Okay. I mean. Thank you. That’s… actually really nice of you, even if you did it without asking me. But now? Tell me what’s going on. No more stories.”

Loki tilted his head, looking sheepish. “Not sure if I can do that, exactly, but I’ll try. You know me.”

“Hmm. I think I do, sometimes.”

“You do. Sometimes, I think, better than I know myself. At least _you_ can tell when I’m lying.” Loki didn’t look remotely embarrassed by this, which made Verity laugh. “What do you want to know?”

“I already asked you,” she said, trying not to let her irritation at repeating herself creep into her voice. “Why do you look different? And why are you suddenly magic guy?”

“I’ve always been magic guy,” he said offhandedly. “You couldn’t have missed all the times it was all over the news that Loki, the God of Evil, fought the Avengers. Once I turned cars into ice cream,” he said, looking nostalgic. “Good times.”

Verity rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but you’re not still ‘that’ Loki, right? And you haven’t done this much magic in all the time I’ve known you. So why now?” 

“You know what they say,” Loki said. “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” He leaned down, running his fingertips across the surface of the water, and as he drew his hand back up, a small figure rose out of the water. The tall curved horns were immediately familiar. “When I was ‘that’ Loki, it was within my power to do anything – I’ll tell you one day about turning Thor into the Frog of Thunder,” he said with a wink, making Verity’s eyes widen in surprise – “and so I thought I deserved everything.”

The small Loki figure was joined by a few others, which it quickly shot down with tiny jets of water. “But I could never get what I really wanted,” Loki said. “I’m not even sure I knew what it was that I really wanted. But there was no way to get whatever it was. So I died.” Verity watched as a whirlpool opened under the little watery figure and sucked it in. It was replaced by what was unmistakably a young version of Loki – _oh._ She couldn’t look away from the child, watching as he ran along the surface of the water with an odd-looking dog and an odder-looking girl. The boy stopped, and a bird flew down and alighted on his held-out arm. Loki reached down, scooping up the two figures in his hand and bringing them higher. 

Verity could see them better now – the small boy with Loki’s smile and a circlet sitting crookedly on his head, and the even smaller bird, its head cocked to the side. Even made of water, the bird’s beak looked sharp. The child, however, seemed unconcerned. “When I came back,” Loki said, his voice quiet, “well – when _I_ came back, I was nothing but a shade. But when he came back, he had limited power. Intentionally reined in to ensure that all the world could see that this new Loki was not the same as the old one.” 

They watched together in silence as the watery bird arose from the child’s arm, circling him faster and faster until the boy disappeared inside the glittering spray of water. After a moment, it abruptly shimmered and fell. To Verity’s surprise, the figure of the child was still standing in Loki’s palm. “When I came back,” he said, and though it was the same words, Verity could hear the difference in meaning, “I still didn’t have all the power that I had before. And I wanted it.” 

Loki held the miniature version of his younger self up higher, nearly at eye level, and the small face gazed right back at him. Its calculating smirk spelled it out: this was no longer the same child, no matter if he looked the same. 

Verity shifted, uncomfortable, but Loki just held the little opaque self still for a long moment and then bent down to release it onto the surface of the water. As Loki stood up again, he spiraled his fingers around the figure, and it swirled like smoke and changed into a Loki that looked almost like the one she had met. “I thought it was being in a younger form that was binding me, so I found a way to transform. But I discovered that it wasn’t the child’s body that held me back, but his –“ he hesitated, looking at the watery version of himself – “You could say his soul, although that wouldn’t be true. But some part of him worked its way into me – I don’t know –“ It was strange to hear Loki, always so sure of himself, stumble over the right words. “I don’t know how. But I’m not who I was, and yet, I am, still. I am always myself,” he said. “But once I had my powers back, I couldn’t bring myself to use them. That was how I had become so corrupted, so long ago. And I had destroyed an innocent child – destroyed possibly the only good that was ever within me – in an attempt to avoid becoming that Loki again. I couldn’t bear to let that be for nothing.”

Verity wanted to tell him that there was good in him, she knew it; that the child could not have been the only good part of him; but she found that she could not say a word. Instead, she watched as Loki pointed at his smaller self, which shifted slightly into the version she knew so well. “I tried to change,” he said. “But I was never really willing to let go of the past – of who I’d been, the wrongs I’d done. And not without reason – I couldn’t forgive myself for the literal skin I wore.” Verity suppressed a shiver. It was one thing to say that as a metaphor, but she could see through those. 

Loki snapped his fingers, and the tiny water Loki exploded, splashing water droplets everywhere and making Verity shriek in surprise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “And I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I didn’t die; not exactly. ‘It is not dying,’ they said – that which is called ego-death.”

“I know that term,” Verity said. “Jungian psychology. Once a person faces and accepts their shadow and emotional chaos, they leave behind their previous self, resulting in a transcendent transformation.” She reeled off the information without thinking about it, then heard what she’d said. “Oh. _Oh.”_

But Loki just nodded, seeming pleased that Verity understood the reference. “Exactly. And I did face my shadow self – I mean, he set me on fire, which makes acceptance a little tricky; so kicking him out of the building seemed more appropriate.” Personally, Verity wouldn’t have minded seeing his ‘shadow self’ set on fire, but she kept the thought to herself. “Joseph Campbell also used ‘ego-death’ to describe the second phase of his monomyth cycle – the transformation. Of course Jung predates Campbell, and the whole concept predates both of them, but… Sorry! All about the stories lately, it seems.”

“Hmm,” Verity said. “I’m not very good with those. As you know.”

“That’s all right. I’ll catch you up… There’s a truth in all stories, you know, even the fictional ones.”

Verity shook her head. “You still didn’t answer my question.” Loki raised his eyebrows. “The magic.”

“Ah. Right,” Loki said. “Magic.” He took a breath, but then tilted his head up to look at the sky. Verity instinctively followed his gaze upwards.

Glowering dark clouds were rolling in from across the water, blotting out the clear tropical sky. The sunlight felt weaker, as though it was powerless in the face of the storm clouds, and a gust of wind blew across the water, stirring it into uneasy ripples that smacked against Verity’s knees and made her shiver. The sky was rapidly deepening to the ominous greenish-purple that usually led to hail and lightning and tornadoes. Verity rubbed her hands against her arms instinctively. “Loki?” 

He nodded, still looking at the sky, though his expression seemed more regretful than concerned. “Time for us to go.” He took her hand again, starting to wade toward the sand.

Verity started to follow but hesitated, turning back to nervously glance over her shoulder at the clouds. “Is that…” She trailed off, not sure if she wanted to actually know.

“Not my brother, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Loki said, answering her unasked question. He squeezed her hand, and it felt comforting. “My guess? Just my own story, catching up with me. Come on.” 

 _That_ was a lot less comforting. Verity wanted to ask what on earth that could possibly mean – especially since it seemed like Loki meant it literally, not metaphorically, and how could that even be a thing? – but she was already stumbling out of the increasingly choppy water and onto the wet sand. The sky was growing much darker now, and the wind had picked up, churning the water into real waves now. It blew cold against Verity’s bare arms and legs, and she shivered again as goosebumps raised along her wet skin. 

“Here,” Loki said, and she looked up to find him dressed again in his familiar green-black-and-gold long sleeves and armor. “Doesn’t quite feel like shorts weather anymore, does it?” Verity ran her hands over her suddenly restored sweater sleeves, and Loki smirked at her. “See? I told you I could bring them back.”

“No, actually, you didn’t give me a real answer at all,” Verity replied, but she was too distracted by the looming storm clouds to scold him properly. She sat on the side the beach chair she’d napped on earlier, brushing the sand off her feet and pulling her socks back on. 

Loki sat down next to her, on the foot of the same chair. “I need to ask you a question,” he said. “I– there are some places I need to go, now; people I need to see and talk to. Well, really, apologize to. I need to make amends, if I can, for what I’ve done.” He pushed his hand through his hair, knocking his gold headband askew. “Miles to go and all that. But I’m not– I owe you, too, for all the things I’ve dragged you into that you had no choice in. So I can bring you back to your apartment, before I go.”

Thoroughly taken aback, Verity wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, she managed, “You – would you rather go alone?”

“Yes?” Loki said, making it sound like a question.

Verity rolled her eyes. “Liar.”

“I know.” Loki shuffled his feet in the sand. “No. I don’t want to go alone. And you are my favorite backup.” That made her smile, as she knew he wanted it to. “I need to face the people who I have hurt and betrayed, and you – for reasons I cannot fathom – keep forgiving me for all the ways I have broken your trust.”

Verity’s heart twisted. He was always such a mess of contradictions. “You are my friend,” she said, hoping he would understand all the implications of that word, the ones that she didn’t know how to say. Of course she forgave him; she could see right through him. 

Loki smiled, but his brows were drawn. “And you are mine. But I don’t know if you come with me, that I’m not just using you, yet again; bringing you along to make me feel better about admitting what I’ve done.”

She tilted her head, considering her friend: the only one she had. Sitting next to her on this chair – on this beach – that he had conjured for her; his shoulders down, kicking at the sand, intently studying the oncoming clouds to avoid her expression. Verity leaned forward and set her hand on his knee. He looked over at her, surprised. “Sometimes needing a friend isn’t the same thing as using them.”

He blinked at her, twice, and then covered her hand with his. “All right,” he said, and his voice was brimming with his usual cheerful determination. “Then let’s go. Before that storm hits.”


	3. Chapter 3

Verity found her footing and opened her eyes, trying to take in the surroundings that Loki had warped them to. “Is this – are we back in the city?” she asked.

“East Village, specifically,” Loki said, glancing up at the street signs on the corner and striding so briskly down the sidewalk that Verity had to hurry after him. “Not far from NYU – lots of students live around here.”

“So are we looking for someone who’s a student at NYU?” Verity asked, catching up and walking beside him.

“Not looking for, no,” he said, as they passed a fenced-in community garden tucked into an alley and stopped in front of a bright red apartment building. “That implies not knowing where to find them.” The entrance was sandwiched between a tiny tailor shop that looked like it had been there for half a century and a colorful storefront advertising _Handmade Gifts_ and _Vintage Consignment._ Verity paused for a moment to take in the windows jam-packed with rainbow-striped woven bags and silver jewelry and funky ceramic vases and lamps, as Loki pulled open the door to the apartment building. “Unlocked,” he said innocently. “How lucky.”

Verity just hmm’ed and allowed him to hold the door open for her. She followed him down the hallway, nearly bumping into him when he stopped abruptly at the last door on the right. Loki raised his hand to knock, but paused for a moment and took a breath; then quickly rapped on the door as if it might bite.

“Hang on,” a voice called from inside, and Verity could have sworn she saw Loki almost imperceptibly flinch. The door swung open, the voice continuing on even before Verity could see him. “I can’t remember, was it sixteen or–“

He was a little taller than Verity and definitely younger – probably college age – with dark brown hair that was falling in his eyes. He was rifling through a handful of dollar bills when he finally looked up and fell silent. After an incredibly awkward moment, he said, “Well, _you’re_ not the delivery guy.” He paused. “You’re not, right?” 

“No,” Loki said, his expression twisting in a half-smile, “I’m not.”

He blinked at Loki, clearly at a loss for words (but not immediately furious at the sight of him, which Verity counted as a win.) 

From inside the apartment suddenly came another voice. “Is that the Thai? I have a ten if you’re short–“ The owner of the voice appeared over the brown-haired guy’s shoulder: taller, broader, blue-eyed and blond-haired, and looking utterly shocked at the sight of Loki.

“It’s not the Thai food,” the brown-haired guy said, still looking at Loki and sounding utterly bewildered.

“No, it’s not,” the blond one said, his surprised expression giving way to a glare. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Clearly, I should have been bringing takeout,” Loki answered. His tone was flippant, but Verity knew him too well to fall for that. Interestingly, the two in the doorway didn’t seem to be falling for it either. Loki looked from one to the other and sighed. “Verity Willis,” he said, stepping back so that they could see her, “may I introduce Billy Kaplan, also known as Wiccan, and Teddy Altman, a.k.a. Hulkling.” He gestured from the brunet to the blond, then looked back at Billy. “Is it still Wiccan? I still have that list of suggestions. Just let me know.”

Loki sounded younger, more less sure of himself, and Verity was reminded of how people tend to regress to teenagehood at their high school reunions. The names clicked into place, and it suddenly made sense. “Oh. Wiccan and Hulkling, from–“

“The Young Avengers, yes,” Loki said. “Once upon a time, I would have introduced them as my friends, but that would have been before I manipulated and betrayed them, nearly getting them all killed.”

“Are you here to apologize?” Teddy demanded. “Because–“

“I don’t want _forgiveness,”_ Loki interrupted, his voice low and serious. “I deserve nothing of the kind. I am here to make _amends.”_

Every word rang true to Verity’s ears. Billy sighed, shifting his weight, and moved aside. “Come in.” Teddy put his hand on Billy’s shoulder, but Billy shook his head. “Come in, and sit down for a minute. I want to hear this.”

Billy and Teddy’s apartment was a riot of color and tchotchkes, from the posters papering the walls to the bookcases overflowing with paperbacks and DVDs and action figures. Comic books spilled across the coffee table and down onto the floor. Billy sat down on one of the worn, clearly secondhand sofas and waved at the other in a ‘sit down’ kind of gesture. Teddy sat down next to him, sort of protectively looming, and Verity took a seat on the mismatched other sofa, leaning against a purple-and-orange striped throw pillow. Loki hesitated, clearly trying not to look like he was hesitating, and then finally sat down warily next to her.

The awkward silence returned, but only for a moment. Billy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and studying Loki intensely. “Where have you been?”

“I was more going with _why are you here,_ ” Teddy said, “but sure, that works too.”

Billy continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “We _literally_ turned around and you were gone. Poof. Disappeared. And then David says he saw you at New Year’s, but none of the rest of us did. We tried calling your phone, but you never answered. Kate even stalked your Instagram and Yamblr, but you never posted. _We looked for you,”_ he said, his eyes boring into Loki. 

“I’m– I’m sorry,” Loki said, sitting quite still and looking back at him. “I never meant to cause any of you more trouble. I just–“ Abruptly, he turned to Verity. “Oh. I introduced them but didn’t introduce you. Billy, Teddy, this is Verity Willis, human lie detector.”

Verity’s eye-roll was reflex by now. “You know I hate when you describe it like that,” she said resignedly.

“Lie detector?” Teddy asked. 

She sighed. “Sort of. I can see through lies,” Verity explained. “Or at least I can tell if the person thinks they’re lying or telling the truth. And I can see through illusions, that kind of thing.” Her eyes widened, suddenly focusing on Teddy. “Oh–“

“Half Kree,” Teddy said. “Shapeshifter. You can tell that?”

“Sort of,” Verity said, squinting. “Like – you are who you seem to be, and yet you’re also not.” Teddy nodded, like that made sense (which was good, because it was starting to give Verity a headache).

“You changed the subject,” Billy said doggedly. “After everything we went through, and – and everything you did! You totally ditched us. I think we deserve an explanation as to why.”

Loki shifted, looking down at his feet and nudging his toe against the carpet. “I fucked up,” he said simply, looking back up at Billy. His face was vulnerable in a way Verity had only seen when he had apologized to her for being such a shit during that spell. “I seriously fucked up. When I met you – when I maneuvered my way into meeting you all – I was playing a part that I had literally been created to play. And it never occurred to me, until I walked off with your powers during that fight with the adults, that I had any choice in the matter. But still,” he said, “I had already set everything into motion. Already made my deal with Mother. Already looked at the people who had my back, and stabbed them in theirs. So I tried to help, from then on out. You all thought I had plans, but by that point, I was flying by the seat of my child-sized pants. I really thought aging myself would bring back my powers,” he said, looking rueful. “I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you. I just didn’t know how else to help. Helping wasn’t really something I had ever tried to do before, to be honest.”

Teddy made a derisive _pfft_ noise, his face fighting off sympathy. “And how do we even know you’re being honest now?”

Verity slowly raised her hand, hesitant to get involved with this train wreck of a reunion. Teddy looked at her, then looked away, trying to hide any reaction. Billy just nodded. “Makes sense.” Teddy looked back at him, raising his eyebrows, but Billy shook his head. “He taught me magic, remember? All that time? I spent a lot of hours talking shop and eating potato chips. Or whatever they were called on that planet with the – remember, with the plants? With the thing?” Teddy snorted.

Loki smirked. “The one that thought you were eating its children?”

“Me? You were the one who was carrying a Pringles can around in your pocket!” Billy’s voice was offended, but he was grinning. His smile faded, though, as he considered Loki, whose face turned abruptly blank. “So you fucked up. You fought alongside us, though. You were one of us, at the end, even if it was all your fault.” Loki flinched at that last part. “Why did you leave, without even saying goodbye?” 

Loki didn’t say a word in response, looking back at his feet. It was quiet in the apartment for what felt like an eternity, until he finally spoke in such a low voice that Verity had to strain to make out the words. “Well, we can say it now.”

Billy sat back on the couch, closing his eyes and letting his head drop back against the wall with a _thunk_. Teddy leaned forward, almost instinctively, and it occurred to Verity that they were a fairly intimidating tag-team. “You said you wanted to make amends,” Teddy said. “How exactly were you planning on doing that?”

Loki shrugged. “I hadn’t figured that out, actually. I was hoping that you could tell me what I could do, to… To help, I suppose. If there was anything that I… any mess I left behind, that I needed to clean up.”

“Fine. Give me your phone.”

“My _phone?”_ Loki looked as dumbstruck as Verity felt. What weird payback for almost getting them killed was it, to take away his phone?

He pulled it out of his pocket with a dubious expression and held it out. Teddy took it, with a glance at Billy, who was sitting forward again and looking confused, and pressed the button to turn on the screen. Billy leaned against Teddy’s shoulder and watched as he swiped at the screen.

Just as Verity was starting to think that maybe this was Teddy’s way of indicating that they should leave, he stopped tapping on the phone. “Here,” he said, suddenly tossing the phone at Loki, who looked shocked but managed to catch it instinctively. The screen was still on, and Verity could see the Contacts screen. “I put in both of our cell numbers. And Kate’s, because she would never forgive me if I passed up the chance to give her an opportunity to kick your ass, or possibly talk to you. And I expect you to stay in touch, from now on, because I live with the world’s most amazing person, who has already forgiven you for all the shit you did, and therefore, I have to forgive you too. Or possibly _just_ because you don’t want us to.” Teddy couldn’t hold back a smirk. 

Loki looked like he’d been hit by a truck. “That’s just – stupid.”

“You were our friend,” Billy said, as if it explained everything, and Verity knew exactly what he meant. 

Clearly, Loki had no idea what Billy meant, but he nodded anyway, looking bewildered. Then his eyes lit up. “Wait – I know. Here.” His fingers flew over the phone screen, and both Billy’s and Teddy’s phones went off at the same time. “Pictures. The ones I never posted online.”

“Oh my god,” Billy said, leaning over and elbowing his boyfriend. “Look, it’s us when – oh my god, this one’s, these are from the moon – Loki, when did you even take these? I never noticed.” Loki shrugged, looking pleased. “This is amazing. Look, it’s Kate! And oh god, Noh – Teddy, do you remember this?”

Teddy was leaning over Billy’s phone, their heads together. Loki grinned at them and then leaned over to Verity, tilting his phone so that she could see the screen. “This is us,” he said. It was a group selfie, with a young Loki front and center, clearly taking the picture, a wide smile on his face. Present-day Loki pointed at each small face. “Kate, Noh-Varr, America, David, and of course Teddy and Billy.”

“You look so much younger than I imagined,” Verity said. “You’re so much younger than the rest of them.”

“I was,” Loki said, “and I wasn’t. I just looked the part, until I convinced Billy to help me fit in a little better.” He smiled, bittersweet. “It was nice to feel like I fit in, for a while. That I had friends, for a while.”

“You did, you moron,” Billy said. “You were a pain in the ass, but you were our friend.” Loki looked awkward, running his hand through the back of his hair. Billy leaned forward and abruptly plucked Loki’s phone out of his hand, making him jump. “Verity, I bet he never showed you any pictures.” She shook her head, as Billy swiped at the screen. “He used to put them up on Instagram ALL the time. Oh, shut up, I’m not looking at anything recent,” he said in answer to Loki’s ineffective protests. “Here.” 

He held the phone out so that Verity could see. It was obviously a candid shot that no one knew was being taken. In the background, Kate was talking to Noh-Varr, their expressions too out-of-focus to make out, but most of the photo was taken up by America and Loki – the older Loki, this time, although still somehow looking younger than the one sitting next to Verity. Maybe it was his hair, which was longer and a bit more floppy, or maybe it was the mischievous smile that seemed like a terrible reaction to the venomous glare from America. “I took this one,” Billy said. “Loki had left his phone somewhere in the ship and I had found it, and America was so pissed off at him for something that I couldn’t resist.”

“She was always furious at me for something or another,” Loki said wistfully. “She used to kick me into walls.”

“She sounds… nice?” Verity said uncertainly, and Billy and Teddy both laughed.

Loki looked suddenly horror-struck. “You’re not going to tell America that I was here, are you?” he asked, aghast. “She will literally kick me into another dimension. And then kick my head into yet a different dimension.”

Billy shrugged, looking innocent. “She hasn’t been around in a long while – you know America… But I think Kate sees her more than we do, so I can’t make any promises about what Kate might tell her…”

“Nooo,” Loki said, sounding lighter than he had since they arrived at the apartment. “She hates me!”

“America does not hate you,” Teddy said, laughing. “You just lived to push her buttons back then.”

“I did not! She just didn’t appreciate me.” Loki took his phone back from Billy and slipped it back into his pocket, the awkwardness settling back over his features again. “Thanks,” he said, ducking his head. “I’ll text you.”

“You’d better,” Billy said.

“I will. I promise,” Loki said, his eyes wide and almost comically innocent. “Have I ever lied to you?”

Billy choked on his laugh and Teddy snorted so hard that he nearly fell off the couch. Verity laughed and elbowed Loki in the side. “You’re _such_ a dork.”

Outside, there was a sudden low growl of thunder, and Verity suddenly realized that it was growing dark outside the windows. Loki bit his lip, peering out the window and considering the sky. “I think that’s our cue,” he said, his voice regretful.

“New thunderstorm phobia?” Teddy asked. “Or is this like, a Wicked Witch of the West thing, where you’ll melt in the rain?”

“Very amusing,” Loki said, still looking distractedly out the window, his eyes far away. “Ha ha. Just too much to explain right now.”

“Yeah, well,” Billy said, “maybe you can explain it next time.”

Loki nodded seriously, looking back at them. “Til next time, then.” He stood, and offered Verity his hand. She rolled her eyes at him and stood on her own. “I hope you don’t mind,” Loki said, “but we’re in a bit of a hurry before the storm catches up with us–“

And before anyone could answer, he was pulling Verity close and she barely had a chance to shut her eyes before the sensation of diving into the wind overwhelmed her.


	4. Chapter 4

This time, the teleportation – or whatever it was – felt like they were forcing their way through a hurricane. Verity hung onto Loki, white-knuckled, ducking her head and burying her face in his shirt. When they landed – Verity suspected that was the wrong word, but she had no words to frame whatever this was in her head – they both stumbled, barely managing to stay upright by catching onto each other.

Verity ran her hand over her hair, feeling like she’d been in a convertible with the top down and no hat, and looked around, bewildered. 

They were standing on a barren rock that seemed to be floating aimlessly, impossibly, in space. The sky was all around them: millions of stars, bright sparks that seemed to go on forever. The sensation of vertigo was overwhelming. 

Trying to ground herself (on what little ground there was), Verity tried to focus on the actual rock, or meteor, or whatever that they were standing on. There were two dead trees, one on either end of the weird island; and in the center, two large, oblong stones that looked like some strange kind of hardened lava. They were as tall as Loki was, standing on end, with odd little blue flames flickering above each. “Where _are_ we?” Verity asked, feeling dazed. “And how are we even _breathing?”_

“Magic,” Loki said distractedly. He was pacing around the rocks, examining them as though looking for something hidden. “This is the Isle of Silence. Odin’s favorite oubliette for traitors to Asgard, or others he’d like to forget about.” He looked up from his inspection to give Verity a cheeky grin. “Me, I’ve absolutely _never_ been here before.”

 “Uh huh,” Verity said dryly. “I’m sure.”

“Actually, I used it as kind of a clubhouse once,” he said, resuming his circle around the stones. “It used to be a bigger island back then. Probably my fault; it probably got blown up during Ragnarok. Which was definitely my fault. Hey,” he said, looking over at Verity before she could even process what he’d said, “come over here. Can you see through any kind of illusion on these?”

She looked them over, and even squinted, but finally had to shake her head. “Nope. Nothing. They look like rocks.”

“They _are_ rocks, but they’re more than that. They’re tombs,” he said, and Verity shivered at his tone of voice.

Suddenly it dawned on her. “Lorelei and Sigurd,” she said. Loki nodded. “Oh my god. They’re – here.” She stared at the monoliths in horror. The same height as Loki. Or other Asgardians.

But Loki had turned his attention to the dead trees flanking the stones. He walked in a circle around one, leaned in close to the bark, knelt down so low that his face was nearly touching the exposed roots. “Nothing,” he said.

“What are you looking for? Some way to – to free them?”

Loki stood up, shaking his head. His brows were drawn together, eyes faraway in thought. “Sort of. Odin sealed their hearts in goose eggs, secured them in caskets of bone and silver, and buried them under these trees.”

“Right,” Verity said faintly. “Their hearts. So you have to dig those up as well. How– do I want to know how their hearts are going to– how you’re going to–”

“First I have to find them,” Loki said, “and that’s a problem. Because they’re not there.”

“Their hearts?”

“The whole shebang,” he said, starting to pace around the tree again. “I should be able to sense some kind of magical– well, _something_ ; I’ve been around Odin’s magic for a long, long time, and I should be able to pick up some kind of vibe of where they’re hidden. But there’s nothing.”

“You’re sure this is where Odin, uh… put them?”

“That’s what he said.” Loki thought for a moment. “Hearts, caskets, trees, Isle of Silence, forever apart.” He put his hand on the tree bark, staring out at the endless stars, lost in thought.

Verity couldn’t hold in a smirk. “Well, Lorelei should like that, at least.” Loki looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. “Apart? Remember how Sigurd was turning all boyfriend-y on her? And how not-thrilled she looked about it?” She sighed. “If I have to explain the joke, it’s just not funny anymore.”

But Loki’s eyes were wide and he was grinning. “Verity, you’re a genius!”

“I am?”

He bounded over to Verity like an oversized, green and gold puppy, catching up her hands in his and nearly knocking her off the space island. “You are! That’s the key, I know it. _Apart._ The whole life-sentences-as-rocks thing happened during the, ah… hero thing.” The last two words made his mouth twist like he’d bitten a lemon.

“Oh, your giant jerk phase?”

“Well–“

“Your ‘I’m too good for mortals’ phase?”

“Um–“

“Your ‘even my evil ex-girlfriend thinks I should be turned into a sugary dessert for what an ass I was being’ phase?”

Loki finally laughed at that one. “Yes. I think you’ve summed it up now. Do you mind if I…” He gestured at the scary tomb rocks. At Verity’s nod, he resumed, without losing an ounce of enthusiasm. “Odin was less than thrilled with my hero-slash-giant-jerk phase, and after locking Lorelei and Sigurd away, he pulled me aside and read me the riot act.”

“No! Odin scolded you?”

“Really. Terrifying parenting moment, getting chewed out for doing what I thought at the time were heroic deeds.” Verity raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I _know._ Now. Anyway, Odin made a point of telling me not only how disappointed in me he was, specifically because I had turned on my friends.” He smiled apologetically. “I think he used the phrase, ‘those who stood with you when no one else would.’ Pretty sure he meant you.”

“Me?” Verity practically jumped out of her skin. “ _Odin_ knows who _I_ am?”

“There’s good odds,” Loki said. “There’s a reason the myths say that he traded his eye for wisdom. Anyway,” he continued, before Verity could react, “I think he was setting me up – for once, to succeed instead of fail. I think he hoped I would eventually come to my senses and try to free them, and I think _you_ are the key.”

“Loki, what–“

But without further explanation, Loki pulled Verity’s hands up between them, clasping his hands around hers. His hands were warm and steady and practically crackling with excitement. “Now,” he said, looking at their joined hands, “take a deep breath, and then tell me if you see anything.”

Verity wanted to argue, wanted to tell Loki that she’d tried this already, but she just couldn’t bear to crush his confidence that this would work. Maybe it would. She nodded.

Before she had a chance to take that deep breath, her hands suddenly felt all pins-and-needles, like she was losing circulation, and she gasped from the shock of it. All at once, the tingling feeling burst out of their clasped hands like a puff of glittering gold dust. Verity felt like she was breathing it in – like she should feel it crowding her throat and lungs – but instead of wanting to cough, she felt better than ever. Powerful. _Oh._

“You’re– magicking me,” Verity said, her voice uncertain.

“Just sharing,” Loki said. His hands were still wrapped around hers, solid and comforting. Which was good, because this was definitely both the scariest and most amazing feeling Verity had ever had. “Just a little magic. Don’t freak out. Hey! Keep breathing.” She nodded. “Okay. Good. Because I’m fairly sure that the only way we can do this is if I hand off some of my power to you, overclock your truth magic, so you can see through the barriers hiding Odin’s spell.”

“And you didn’t get around to sharing that plan before you put it into play?” 

“Call it impulse control issues.” He squeezed her hands. “Now, look. Tell me. What do you see?”

Verity swallowed hard and _looked_. 

Where before there had been nothing but desolate, empty black stones, there was now a swirling combustion of dazzling light. The rocks looked as if they were made of churning whirlpools of lava, glowing incandescent reds and oranges like liquid coals. And flanking the brilliant stones were the bare, dead trees – except that their roots were ablaze with something almost like fire, flames licking up their trunks and branches, but not consuming the trees at all. 

“Verity.” Loki’s voice was somewhere between impatient and worried. “What do you _see?”_

She couldn’t tear her eyes away, couldn’t speak. It was as though everything was on fire, about to explode, but there was no heat, no sound, no smoke; only this amazing riot of – of _energy_. How could she describe any of this? 

Unable to think of any other response, Verity wrenched her attention back to Loki for a moment, meeting his eyes. “Here,” she said shakily. She pulled her hands from his and slid her fingertips against his temples, not really knowing what she was doing, but hoping she was somehow sharing their combined magic back.

It must have worked: light flared like reflected fire in his eyes. His gaze flickered over her shoulder at the rocks, and she watched his mouth drop just slightly open, then curve into a delighted smile. “Verity!” he crowed, and she felt like she was filled head to toe with the golden pins and needles. “Verity, we did it! You did it!”

In one deft movement, he clasped her hands in his again and pressed his lips to her fingers, his eyes shining with excitement. Then he was pulling her along with him to kneel next to the closer tree. Verity was still blinking and slightly dazed, watching Loki reach out and touch the edge of the magical flames. She wondered if he was going to try to dig with his hands into the ground, which seemed to be made of solid rock.

But instead, as she watched, Loki brought both of his hands down, reaching into the fire, and gently pushing his hands apart. The flames parted as though he was altering the spray of a water fountain, and as he brought his hands down, the fire went lower, as though going into the earth itself. Verity watched him slowly push his hands into the space opening under the tree roots until his hands closed around something.

He pulled out a small round box. It was maybe half a foot long, made of some kind of ivory-looking stone, and sealed in every direction with silver ribbons. Loki paused to inspect it for a moment, and then held it out to Verity. Looking more closely, she realized that they weren’t silver ribbons, they were thin strips of actual silver, which meant – “Bone and silver,” she said aloud.

Loki nodded. “Hold this,” he said, thrusting the box into her hands and darting to the other tree. She flinched, realizing she was holding, oh god, a magical box containing someone’s _heart._ Standing on a space island, holding a magical box containing someone’s actual heart. She shook her head and quickly crossed over to the other tree.

Loki was already pulling the other box out of the ground. As he stood up, Verity noticed that the magical fires were still burning; funny, she had thought they would die off once he removed their prizes. But the flames continued flickering against their trees, casting an eerie glow on the box Loki was holding in his hands. He was studying it, turning it slowly one way and then the other, examining every inch. Verity couldn’t imagine what he was looking for – all the strips of silver seemed impenetrable, like they had been welded shut, only with no visible seams. Loki held the box in one hand, tracing the silver stripes with one finger as though looking for a catch to open it, when he suddenly stopped. He raised his hand, gazing evenly at the box, and tapped it once with his index finger.

The silver bands opened obediently, unfurling from the center like the opening petals of a flower. In the center sat the round bone casket, fastened shut with a small silver clasp in the shape of a heart. Loki eased it open until the lid popped up with an audible click, revealing a smooth white egg carefully cushioned by what looked like crimson silk. Loki turned to her, his expression delighted, eyes dancing. She held out the box in her hands, and he repeated the process, the silver rings unwinding and the lid raising. Inside was another, identical egg, this one swaddled in green silk. 

“Two down,” he said, and Verity looked down at the egg she was holding, trying not to be incredibly grossed out by the fact that there was a physical heart inside it. Loki stepped back, regarding the two lava-filled stones for a moment, and then setting his casket down in front of the stone to their left. Verity was only too glad to carefully place hers on the ground in front of the other stone. Loki stepped backwards again, gesturing for Verity to do the same, and took a deep breath, spreading his hands wide. “Two to go.”

She took another involuntary step backward as Loki’s hands began to crackle with magic, barely visible at first, and then glowing brighter and brighter until green lightning was sizzling over his open palms. Her heart was hammering, and just as Verity couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer, Loki swung his arms forward, pitching the magic at the towering rocks.

At first, it seemed like nothing happened – as though they just absorbed Loki’s magic into their existing energy. But suddenly the stones flared even brighter, the swirling lava beginning to churn wildly. “Loki?” Verity said, nervous, as he took a quick step backwards. The light grew even more intense, its movement more turbulent, and Verity’s stomach was starting to feel the same way. “Loki!” 

Then the stones erupted into blinding red-gold brilliance, and Verity’s yell was swallowed up by the roar of sound that exploded around them. She covered her face with her hands, shrieking unheard into the commotion as gale-force winds nearly rushed her off her feet.

And then it all died away in a moment, leaving Verity wobbly and shocked, but still standing.

She gingerly uncovered her eyes to find the rocks reduced to piles of smoking, charred sand and pebbles. And standing over the rubble, like two glowering phoenixes, were Lorelei and Sigurd. 

Verity blinked, and blinked again, but they were still there, standing in the gravel and both glaring daggers at Loki. He shifted his weight, looking from one angry face to the other. “So, uh,” he said, in a bright voice that just screamed _lying!_ , “you guys must be well rested! Slept like rocks?”

Verity choked. Sigurd scowled. Lorelei narrowed her eyes in a withering stare.

Loki tilted his scrupulously innocent face at the two fuming Asgardians. “I mean, on the bright side, at least you’re free! Things can only get better. This was really rock bottom.”

Verity tried to pass off her laugh as a cough, and utterly failed. Sigurd continued scowling. Lorelei took a menacing step forward.

Loki looked completely unruffled. “What? Come on. We’re all friends here, right? Let’s not take that for granite.”

Lorelei finally snapped. She strode forward and grabbed Loki by his collar, wrenching him forward by the throat. “What the FUCK is wrong with you?” she snarled. 

Loki met her eyes, and they paused like that for a moment, until he managed to croak out words despite the way she was cutting off his airway. “Can we just start over with a clean _slate?”_

Lorelei made an inhuman noise and threw Loki backward. He landed sprawling on the rocky ground, barely catching himself from landing flat on his back, but still managing to smirk up at her. 

Her voice was like ice; cold and sharp. “You get us locked up forever on this godforsaken island, and you think it’s appropriate to crack _jokes?”_

“Well,” Loki said, “I did get you out.”

“You are a worthless, useless cur,” Lorelei spat. “You and my wretched excuse for a sister had us basically buried alive.” She strode forward, her face dark with anger, until she was standing over Loki. “Give me one reason that I shouldn’t return the favor.”

“I’m sorry,” Loki said.

Off to the side, Sigurd huffed in disbelief. Lorelei just stared at him. “You’re sorry.”

“Yes,” Loki said. “I’m sorry. I was wrong in what I did, and I came to free you to make amends.”

Lorelei seemed unmoved – she still looked thunderously angry and a hair’s breadth away from turning Loki into a boulder. “Oh, Loki of the silver tongue. You think you can talk your way out of anything, don’t you? You come here, and say you’re sorry, and that you want to make up for, what, _being Loki_ all these years? That’s a pretty story.”

“It’s a true one,” Loki said. Considering he was at the mercy of a furious sorceress who wanted to entomb him in rock for eternity, he seemed unreasonably calm. “You can ask Verity.”

“Oh, yes, Truth Girl,” Lorelei said, turning the force of her glare on Verity. “Chief devotee of the God of Mischief. Oh, wait, make that the only devotee. No point in asking you if he’s telling the truth, then – he wouldn’t have bothered to bring you along if he was going to lie to me.”

“To us,” Sigurd muttered in the background.

“He’s not lying,” Verity retorted, fuming at being reduced to Loki’s “devotee”. 

“For once,” Loki said. “See? I took the words out of your mouth. But I am telling the truth. I am sorry for what I did to you both while I was under that spell – I don’t have to tell you about the very poor decisions one can make while affected by sorcery, as you are often the one casting the spells. But they were my own mistakes, while it lasted, and now I owe you far more than simply undoing your imprisonment; but at least I could do this.”

Lorelei closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, looking pained. “This may actually be worse than watching you and Amora making kissy faces at one another.”

“Nope.” Verity couldn’t stop the word from popping out. Sigurd snickered.

“Fine.” Lorelei swooped down on Loki like a bird of prey spotting a mouse, and dragged him to his feet, again by his collar. “Consider your amends made. Consider your debts paid. And please _consider–”_ she barked the word in a way that made it clear that it was not a request – “staying out of my sight for a very, very long time.”

“I shall consider it,” Loki said in a faux polite voice, but at Lorelei’s violent twitch, he flinched. “All right! Yes. Out of your sight. Got it.”

Lorelei graced him with one more death glare for good measure, then turned on her heel and stalked back toward Sigurd. “Come,” she ordered, and Mr. “I’m-a-Big-Deal-in-Asgard” nodded obediently. Lorelei pulled a small glowing sphere from a pocket in her belt and tossed it onto the ground, where it opened into a violet portal. Verity could see something that looked like a regular Earth city on the other side – maybe Paris or Rome. Lorelei shooed Sigurd through the portal, and glanced one last time over her shoulder at Loki. She looked like she wanted to say something, but decided against it, and stepped through the portal. It vanished along with the two Asgardians.

“Well,” Loki said into the sudden silence, “ _that_ was awkward.”

“Can’t really argue with you there.” Verity shrugged. “They’re not very nice people.”

“No, not really,” Loki agreed. “Can’t imagine why we’ve always gotten on so well.”

Verity shook her head. “But you’re–“

Loki put a finger to his lips. “Shush. Not now.”

The sky all around them, filled with countless stars, suddenly seemed very dark and very cold. “Where to next?” Verity asked, wrapping her arms around herself, whether from nerves or chill, she wasn’t sure.

With a long sigh, Loki’s answer was a single word. 

“Thor.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Verity backed up, holding her hands up in front of her, as Loki stepped forward to take her arm for his teleporting trick. “Thor? Like, here-let-me-hit-you-with-an-axe, Thor?”

“He’s my brother,” Loki said, his voice resigned. “I have done him more harm than any other.”

Verity shook her head frantically. “No. No no no. Loki, this is a _terrible_ plan. Worse than your usual plans. Worse than your usual lack-of-plans. If you go find your brother, he is going to try and kill you again, and I am pretty much zero help against a rage-filled thunder god.”

Loki shrugged. “That’s okay. If he wants to kill me… Maybe I deserve it. Maybe that’s how I can make amends to him.”

“Letting him live with the knowledge that he killed his brother is _not_ the best thing you can do for him.” Loki grimaced a little at that, but Verity didn’t let go. “Don’t do this. It’s suicide.”

“But it’s my suicide,” Loki said, and with startling speed, he slid his arm around Verity and then they were rushing through whatever in-between place, or all the places, that felt like wind and waves.

When Verity found her feet on solid ground again, the first thing she did was swing her fist as hard as she could. “Ow!” Loki yelped, letting go of her to grab his arm where she’d connected. “What was _that_ for?”

“Don’t you ever do that to me,” Verity said, leaning up to point her finger right in his face. “Don’t you _ever_ teleport me, or whatever, without my permission!”

“Oh,” he said regretfully, rubbing his arm. “Right. That was– I’m sorry.”

“Damn right,” Verity said, still angry. “Especially since we were in the middle of a conversation about what a terrible idea it was.” She quickly looked around, suddenly realizing that she could be in the way of that very large axe Thor had been swinging last time she saw him, but there didn’t seem to be any rage-fueled brothers in sight.

Loki was scanning the area too – obviously having the same thought – and seemed to come to the same conclusion. “Strange.”

“Did your magic not work?” Verity wrinkled her nose. “Maybe your magic knew it was a terrible idea, too.”

“Magic doesn’t work that way,” Loki said, clearly only half paying attention to Verity as he looked around. “I was very specific about where I was going; or actually, to whom I was going. It worked just fine with the others. Why would it not work with – Thor,” he said, his voice suddenly changing, and Verity spun, panicking, to find Thor standing right behind them.

Only it wasn’t Loki’s brother.

It was a woman, wearing armor and a silver helm over curling blonde hair, holding a large hammer in her hands that Verity knew instinctively was Mjolnir. “Loki,” she said, in a voice that wasn’t terribly welcoming. 

On the other hand, she wasn’t trying to kill him, either, so Verity considered it a win. Loki seemed disappointed, though. “No,” he said, glancing around again before settling back on the woman. “No, no, no. Stupid! I can’t believe I forgot that he’s going by Odinson now. So the magic brought us to Thor,” he said, addressing the woman in question. “Pleasure to meet you, though; I _have_ been curious. You’re an interesting turn in the story of Thor.”

“And you are the eternal villain in that story,” she said, weighing the hammer in her hand.

Loki took a step back, looking mildly alarmed. “Hey now, no need for that. I’m just looking for my brother. You haven’t seen him, have you? Large fellow, metal arm, red cape, hopefully has put a shirt on by now?”

Thor actually smirked. “I’ve no quarrel with his shirtlessness.”

Verity’s eyes widened. Loki literally facepalmed. “Wonderful,” he said. “Another one of my brother’s fans. Please don’t try to kill me just on principle.”

“Oh, I have plenty of reasons for which I could fight you, trickster,” Thor said. “But it’s already been a long day.” She gestured around her, and for the first time, Verity realized that they were standing in the aftermath of some kind of battle. Clearly, they had arrived just after everything started to settle down. “Are you planning to introduce your friend?”

Loki motioned toward Verity. “Where are my manners? What with being afraid you’ll hit me with that hammer and all, I must have forgotten. This is my friend Verity Willis, who thus far has not tried to hit me with any hammers either. Although that is probably a failing on her part. Verity, may I introduce Thor, she who is apparently now worthy of that name.”

“Nice to meet you,” Verity said, feeling awkward. 

“And you too.” Thor smiled, then turned back to Loki. “So why are you looking for him?”

“My brother? Oh… To fight him, definitely. Yes. We shall have a most glorious battle for the throne of Asgardia!” Loki had raised his hand in some kind of regal-ish gesture, staring off into the middle distance, as though envisioning his great success in battle. “And the winner shall be me, yadda yadda, royal crown. So we’ll just be going now,” he said hurriedly, stepping toward Verity, “pleasure to make your acquaintance, take care.”

But Thor was already moving toward Loki, and cut him off, pressing her hammer to his chest. “I am no fool,” she said. “The real reason, now.”

Loki sighed. “Fine.” He stepped backwards, gingerly pushing his fingertips against Mjolnir to put some space between himself and the hammer. “All right. I’m looking for my brother to apologize for the… myriad wrongs I have done to him over the centuries.” 

“From what I’ve heard,” Thor said, “you have much to apologize for from the last half-decade alone.”

“Lovely,” he said. “Even those who don’t know me, know my sins.”

She laughed. “What makes you think I don’t know you?”

Loki stopped at that, tilting his head and considering her for a moment. “Verity,” he said, in a peculiar voice, “can you see who this woman is underneath her helm?”

“I don’t have x-ray vision,” Verity said, irritated, but then she realized that there was, in fact, something… off… about this new Thor. She _was_ Thor; but at the same time, she was, somehow, someone else. “Actually… Yes, sort of.”

Loki was still looking curiously at Thor, who was visibly uncomfortable. “Who is she?”

Verity rolled her eyes. “How would I know? I can see through illusions, not read minds. I don’t recognize her.”

“But– that’s not fair!” He turned to Verity, disappointment plain on his face. “You can see who she is, but you don’t know anybody that she could be!” A smile started to slide across his lips. “You know–“

“No. No magic.”

Loki huffed a sigh and turned back to Thor. “Fine. Keep your secrets, for now. I truly had not meant to interrupt your heroics,” he said, gesturing at the twisted metal and rubble in the road. “You can be getting on with things and we’ll head off to wherever Odinson is hiding himself these days.”

“Probably a tavern,” Thor said, making Loki blink in surprise. “Your brother has been in a dark place, of late, and seems to have a mug in his hand more often than not. Or his axe; he seems to have a ‘swing now, ask later’ philosophy lately. And I don’t think your appearance will entice him to put either of those aside. Apology or no.”

“I owe him more than an apology.” Loki stood straight, looking Thor in the eye, suddenly honest. “I owe it to him to make amends.”

Thor sighed. “Loki.” She shook her head, the expression under her helm a little softer; almost kind. “You owe him more than you can repay. And there is no way for you to fix that – to force him to change how he feels.”

“I’m not trying to change how he feels,” Loki said. “I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

“We don’t forgive because someone deserves it,” Thor said. She put her hand out, then, clasping Loki’s arm. “We forgive because we are strong enough to let go of anger and hate. Whether that’s forgiving someone else, or ourselves.”

For once, Loki seemed lost for words. He stood there awkwardly, gazing at Thor’s hand on his arm with an unreadable expression, until a sudden distant rumble of thunder made all three of them look up. “Wasn’t me,” Thor said.

Loki took a step backwards towards Verity, and his glance toward her said everything: time to go. “Nope,” he said, suddenly casual, “that was me, this time.”

“Trying to take over as God of Thunder?” Thor smiled. “I heard you had a turn with this, not long ago.” She held Mjolnir out to Loki as easily as if it were a toy. “Want another go?”

Loki spread his hands out in disbelief. “Are you kidding? How do you even _know_ about that?”

Thor smirked. “Asgardian grapevine. And by _grape_ vine, I mean that your brother can’t keep his mouth shut when he’s drinking wine. Or ale. Or really anything in a tavern.”

“Fantastic. No, thanks, I think that impulse has passed,” Loki said firmly. “I don’t need an oversized hand tool to remind me that I’m unworthy.”

“Your call.” Still smiling, Thor held her free hand out to Verity and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Verity said wryly. Loki rolled his eyes. 

“You too,” Thor said to him. “Good luck. Behave yourself.”

“Thanks,” he said, and sounded like he meant it. “You too. You seem to be doing pretty well with the whole–“ he gestured to Mjolnir– “Goddess of Thunder gig. You ever want a sibling, give me a call.”

“You do have more than one sibling, you know,” she said, tilting her head at Loki. “I think you saw one fairly recently.”

Loki shifted his weight. “Well, yes.” Verity raised an eyebrow in surprise. Had Loki ever mentioned other siblings? She couldn’t remember.

“Perhaps you should go and see her,” Thor suggested. “You may not be able to offer an apology to your brother, but your sister may feel she is owed one as well.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Loki said, looking thoughtful. “Hmm. I suspect Angela is easy to find – not many in the ten realms like her.” 

“You have a sister named Angela?” This day just got stranger and stranger, Verity thought. “How do I not know you have a sister?”

“I only found out myself not long ago – that was during the summer, right before we ended up in Latveria. Loki and Thor’s road trip to the Tenth Realm.” Verity just shook her head. 

Thunder whispered again in the distance. “Sounds like you’d best be going,” Thor said. 

“Sad but true,” Loki nodded. He held out his hand, and clasped hers for a moment. “Thank you.” Then, with a smirk, he added, “We should go out sometime, all three of us – we could make it a girls’ night out!” 

Thor laughed. “I’ll give you a call.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Loki said, then stepped in close to Verity. She ducked, knowing what was about to happen. “Talk to you soon!”

And the world disappeared into the now-familiar rush of nothingness.

* * * * * * * * * *

“I still can’t believe this,” Verity said, her voice hushed. They were watching as Angela held Sera’s hands, leaning in close and talking in a low voice. When they embraced, Verity looked away, not wanting to intrude.

Loki grinned at her. “What, that my sister has a girlfriend?” He snapped his fingers, and somehow blurred around the edges for a moment.

Verity blinked, and Loki was – well, Loki, but with longer, curling hair and a slightly rounder face; a definitely _prettier_ face. “Oh,” Verity said, surprised. “You’re a girl.”

“Gender doesn’t ruffle me too much,” Loki said. “Or sexuality, really. There’s no point in drawing boundaries when everything can change. Did you ever want to be a boy?” she asked, suddenly looking hopeful. “I could probably change you into a boy for a while, if you wanted.”

“Not really, no,” Verity said. “I’m fine how I am right now, thanks. I’ve just never seen you do – this – before.” She paused for a moment, considering her friend. “You’re way too pretty as a girl. It’s not fair.” Loki smirked, which just looked coy on her changed face. “But no, I wasn’t really surprised by them,” she said, nodding her head toward the couple, who were now murmuring to each other again, “I meant that I can’t believe this: that I am standing here in actual hell.”

Loki shook her head. “Not hell, Hel. Totally different place. This is Hela’s realm of the dead – it’s not the fire-and-devils place. That’s next door,” she said cheekily.

Verity ignored her. “Yes, I know. But still. Underworld. Land of the dead.” 

“Well,” Loki said, “when you need to rescue someone from their eternal afterlife – you know, as one does – that’s where you wind up going to find them.”

When they had found Angela, Verity was utterly overwhelmed – she wasn’t sure what she had expected Loki’s sister to be like, but it definitely wasn’t the terrifying warrior dressed in midriff- and cleavage-baring silver armor, overwhelmingly tall – taller even than Loki – and wearing an expression of intense rage.

Angela had narrowed her eyes under her winged silver helm and listened as Loki told her his story: that he wished to make amends for the wrongs he had done her. Verity had half expected Angela to simply behead him or something equally violent – the woman was _scary_ – but instead, she just nodded. “You do owe me, Loki Odinson.”

“Not sure about the patronym, but otherwise, you’re not wrong,” Loki said. Angela gave him a cold look, and he hurried to continue. “I do owe you, for my role in bringing down Asgard’s wrath upon you and Heven.”

“More than once.”

“More than once,” Loki agreed. He turned to Verity. “My sister was raised by Angels,” he said, and Verity knew enough to keep her mouth shut and assume he didn’t mean the kind with harps and halos. “Angels are very specific about debts,” he went on. “And I owe her payment for the wrongs I’ve done.” He turned back to his sister. “What is your price?”

It turned out that what Angela, the terrifying, impossibly intimidating warrior sister, wanted more than anything else in the universe was to get her girlfriend back – to free her from what was apparently meant to be eternal torment in the Asgardian afterlife. Verity’s heart sank – surely this was an impossible favor to ask, even of Loki – but he just beamed at his sister. “A rescue mission into the underworld! Oh, I haven’t done one of those in a while.” He smiled brightly and held out his hand to Angela, who just looked at it balefully. “Let’s go to Hel!”

Until then, Angela had been absolutely the scariest woman Verity had ever encountered (not counting her mother, when Verity was small and called her out on little white lies in front of the neighbors). But then there was Hela, Queen of the Dead. She sat on her morbid throne – Verity didn’t want to look closely enough at it or the pillars around them to see if they were carved from stone, or made of actual skulls – wearing an enormous, elaborate black headdress and long flowing green gown. Her too-dark eyes and mouth looked almost black, set against her too-pale white face, but she was beautiful in an eerie, awful way.

Hela’s expression was impassive as Loki approached the foot of the stairs that led up to her throne. Angela strode purposefully alongside him on his left side; Verity was a step behind on his right. Hela looked down at them silently, and Verity was inexplicably reminded of her middle school principal: the one who managed to strike fear into two hundred tweens without a word.

“Queen Hela,” Loki greeted her, his voice more respectful than Verity had ever heard it. “Thank you for granting us an audience.”

“Loki,” she returned, in a voice that made Verity shiver. “Why do you feel it necessary to return to my realm? I thought once that I had rid myself of your presence for eternity. Yet I seem to see you more than ever.”

Loki dropped his gaze to the foot of the stairs. “I come before you to beg a favor, not for myself, but for my sister; but in return, I offer myself in debt to you. And you know I have always repaid you that which I’ve owed.”

Hela tilted her head, considering him. “You have many debts still to pay, serpent-tongue. But I may have use for your repayment still. What is the favor that you ask?”

Convincing Hela to free Sera was suspiciously easy: Loki explained the circumstances, with periodic violent interruptions from Angela, who could not keep herself quiet. Verity stayed silent the whole time, desperately hoping that Hela hadn’t even noticed her there in the shadow of the other two. When Loki finished, he bowed his head. “Lady Hela, as queen of this eternal realm, we humbly beg your consideration and I offer you any service I can return.”

To Verity’s utter shock, Hela agreed. And thus they were standing before Sera’s open cell, trying not to interrupt their moment of reunion. 

“Loki.” The voice that boomed from behind them was filled with distaste.

Verity and Loki turned at the same time to find a large, violent-looking, armored man standing there, giving off a distinct impression that he’d like to perform some violence on Loki right at that moment. “Oh, hello, Tyr,” Loki said, not sounding particularly concerned. “It’s been too long. Ah, not really. Verity, this is Tyr, God of War and Hela’s bodyguard.”

Tyr bristled, but didn’t acknowledge anything that Loki said. “The Queen of Hel requests your presence before her throne. All of you,” he said loudly, catching Angela and Sera’s attention. “Now.”

By the time they stood before Hela’s throne once more, Verity realized Loki had shifted back to his male form; she felt a pang of vague disappointment. She stood a step behind him, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. On his other side, Angela stood with her back straight and head tilted up proudly, her arm around Sera, who hadn’t taken her eyes off Angela. Loki himself stood at attention, hands clasped behind his back, his attention politely on the Queen of the Dead. “You requested our presence?”

“Yes, Loki.” She shifted on her throne, leaning forward, her long gown rustling like a hundred snakes. “Angela, called Angela of Heven, also named Aldrif Odinsdottir. Have I granted that which you have asked?”

Angela’s eyes flickered to Sera, lingering on her face for a long moment before she answered. “Yes.”

“Then I ask that you take leave of my realm. It is no place for the living,” Hela said, “and so if you wish to still count yourself as such, do not wear out my patience with your presence here.”

“I have no desire to stay in your presence,” Angela stated. “We are glad to leave here.”

“Then go. Tyr, take them to the way back.”

Tyr stepped forward from his place looming over Hela’s shoulder, descending the stairs and gesturing for the women to follow him. Angela paused, putting her hand on Loki’s shoulder. “You have paid your debt to me. I could ask no higher price than this.”

“You’re welcome,” he said. His face was serious for a moment, then he smiled. “Anything for my sister.”

Angela gave him a flat stare for a moment, then rolled her eyes at him and walked away. Over her shoulder, Sera twisted to face Loki and mouthed, “Thank you,” and then the pair disappeared down the dark hallway after Tyr.

Verity looked up at the Queen of Hel to find Hela’s dark stare boring into her. She gulped. “Verity Willis,” Hela said. 

“Yes. Ma’am.” Verity stumbled over the words. Oh god, she was going to be stuck here in the Asgardian afterlife forever.

“You come here at the side of Loki the Liar, yet you hear only the truth.” Verity didn’t know what to say. “You are the friend of Loki the Trickster, yet you believe in him.”

“…yes.” It was hard to get the word out, since it felt like Hela might strike her down for it, but it was the truth.

“Hmm.” Hela regarded her for another eternity, then turned to Loki. “Mischief-maker. Serpent-tongue. Your hourglass is nearly empty.”

“I know,” Loki answered. Verity hoped that didn’t mean what she thought it had to mean. 

Hela stood, then. She descended the stairs with regal, terrifying grace, moving soundlessly across the stone floor until she was standing in front of Loki. Hela gazed at him, her black eyes unreadable, then curled her pale ivory hand against his cheek. “You offered me anything I might ask of you.”

Loki steadily met her eyes. “I did.”

“Then I require that favor of you now.” She stepped backwards, and Verity thought: I really am going to be stuck here forever. “You seek to make amends, Thief of Kindness, Moon-Wanderer? Then make amends.”

There was a blinding light, and Verity shielded her eyes to try and see. Something she assumed was some kind of portal had blazed into existence – it looked less like the one Lorelei and Sigurd had used on the Isle of Silence, and more like a hole had been ripped in the world. 

“Go, Loki,” Hela intoned, her voice imperious. “Redress your grievances. Before the storm reaches you.” Loki nodded. “And you, Verity Willis, Friend of Discord, Truth-Teller. Stay constant by cunning.” Verity nodded too, not sure what to make of that. Hela swept her arm toward the portal, her face inscrutable. “Now go.”

They went.


	6. Chapter 6

Coming out the other side of Hela’s portal, Verity stumbled and fell forward onto her hands and knees. It hurt. She pushed herself up off the purplish-gray rock under her hands, standing up and brushing the dirt off.

“Are you all right?” Loki’s voice came from below, and Verity looked down to find that Loki must have managed to trip coming through the portal too. Although how he managed to land half-upside-down was beyond her. 

“I’m fine,” she said. “But are you okay? You look…”

“No harm done,” he said, untangling himself and standing. There was purple-gray dirt all over his black pants, and Verity realized, looking around, that pretty much the entire landscape was the same oddly colored rock. It was flat ground, interrupted only by the active volcanoes belching clouds of acrid smoke that poured across the sky like angry clouds. 

“Where are we?” she asked, not sure if she was really expecting an answer or not. This seemed like too foreign a place for even Loki; but then again, she’d just been on an island in space and in the literal underworld, so.

But apparently Loki did recognize where they were, because his eyes were wide and round, scanning the area in something like a panic. “No,” he said, his voice unsteady, “no, no, no.”

“That doesn’t sound like a ‘no, I don’t know where we are,’” Verity guessed. 

But Loki just shook his head and, to her surprise, sank back down to sit on the rocky ground, folding one leg under himself, arms wrapped around his bent knee. “I know where we are.” He leaned forward, staring off into the smoke-filled sky. “Verity. I can’t do this.”

“What?” He had been so positive up until now – apologetic, resigned, possibly even doomed if Hela was right – but determined to go on and see his quest through to the end, no matter what it brought. But now, Loki was curling in on himself, as though trying to make himself smaller, or shrink himself out of existence altogether. Verity knelt down next to him, peering into his impassive face for clues. “Loki, what’s going on? Where are we?”

“I know, but I don’t – I mean, I don’t know where we are, but I’ve been here before. I know why we’re here. And in this case?” He blew out a long, slow breath. “The why is more important than the where.”

Verity nodded. “That sort of makes sense,” she said. “So why are we here?”

But Loki was shaking his head again. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I can’t do it. I can’t.”

“Hey. Listen to yourself,” she said. “Of course you can. Look how far you’ve come. Literally. I have no idea where we are, but it’s got to be far away. Unless it’s throwing yourself into one of those volcanoes, you can do this.” She had a sudden thought. “It’s not the volcano thing, is it?”

“A volcano would be so much easier to face,” Loki said tonelessly. “Verity. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” she said. “Hey.” Verity reached out and took his hand, which made Loki look over at her and meet her eyes. “Hey. It’s okay. Whatever it is, wherever we are, it will be okay. I’m here with you. If we could face down the Queen of Hel together, we can do this.”

Loki laughed, then, and the sound of it made Verity shiver. “You have no idea.”

She bit her lip. “Loki. Are we– We are going to make it out of here,” she said, forcing her voice to sound resolute. “Whatever danger this is. Is it something you have to fight? Or, or escape?” Loki just shook his head, and Verity let out a huff of frustration. “Dammit! Will you just tell me the _truth?”_

Loki huffed out a breath that might have been a laugh. “And this, Verity Willis, is why you are unique among all the stories in the universe: alone in a distant, abandoned dimension with the God of Lies, and instead of being afraid, you’re just angry that I haven’t explained myself.”

“Of course I’m not afraid,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Well, I mean, I’m terrified because of what you’re saying. But really?” She looked around at the empty landscape. “There’s not much here to be afraid of. Unless you meant you, which is just ludicrous.” Loki raised an eyebrow, as if to object to not being scary. “Come on. I’ve seen your black nail polish collection. If that didn’t scare me off, nothing about you will.”

He smiled then, squeezing her hand back. “I don’t deserve you as my friend. But I’m everlastingly grateful that you are.”

Verity nodded. “So what are we here for?”

Loki winced. “Not we. Me. This is my personal hell,” he said unhappily. “I should have known that there was no way I could make amends and avoid the one person to whom I have done the most damage.”

Confused, Verity tilted her head. “I thought – isn’t – then who have you done the most harm to?”

“Me,” came a voice from behind them.

Startled, Verity jerked around to look up. Standing over them was an imposing figure in a long green dress, her long black hair falling forward and shrouding her face in shadow. 

Loki hadn’t moved a muscle, except to lower his eyes to direct an empty stare at the ground. Verity stayed in the awkward position she had twisted into, still holding his hand but watching the newcomer warily. She didn’t move either. 

The three of them stayed like that, silent, for a long moment. In this strange, hushed place, Verity wasn’t sure if it was seconds or minutes. Finally, the shadowed figure spoke again, her voice clipped. “Well?”

At that, Loki stood up, his hand slipping from Verity’s. She followed suit, pushing herself up off her knees, and realized to her surprise that the person they were facing was a girl much younger than herself, no more than a young teenager, if that. Her old-fashioned dress was trimmed with gold and her hair was held back with matching gold clips, with something that looked suspiciously like bones tucked in at the back. Her expression was nothing short of cold fury directed at Loki.

He still didn’t speak.

The girl made an irritated noise. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“What do I have to say?”

The girl rolled her eyes, still glaring. “Oh, I don’t know. How about starting with, ‘hello, Leah, nice to see you, Leah, _sorry for sending you here, Leah.’”_

Well, that seemed to sum up the issue, Verity thought. Loki seemed to think so too, still looking away from her. “Thank you for the exposition. Saved me telling the story to Verity.”

Leah turned her gaze to Verity, then, considering her with a dispassionate look. “A new friend,” she said to Loki. “That’s nice. For you. Probably won’t turn out well for _you,_ ” she said, turning her attention back to Verity. “As you can see. Perhaps he’ll leave you here with me. We could start a club.”

Loki winced. “I didn’t leave you here. Exactly.”

“You did.”

“I did.”

She advanced on him, then, her small face turned up into his, forcing his gaze to hers. He flinched. “And would not tell me why. Would not speak to me. Would not _explain yourself._ ”

There was a long pause. The words seemed to echo across the empty landscape, or perhaps it was only in Verity’s own head, remembering her own voice demanding to know what was going on in Loki’s head.

“I would not,” Loki said, finally.

“Would not, or could not?”

Loki paused again before answering. “Would not.”

Leah stared him down for another moment, then turned and walked a few steps away. She stood there silent for a moment, her back to them. When she spoke, her voice was unsteady. “You told Hela you wanted nothing to do with me. You begged her to send me as far away from you as she could.”

“I did.”

She spun around then, stalking back to him. “You are not the Loki I knew!”

“No,” Loki said, his heart breaking in his voice. “I am not.”

Leah’s eyes were shiny, her chin tilted up in anger and defiance, and she took a breath to speak – then stopped. She put her hand up as if to touch Loki’s face, then abruptly dropped it. “No,” she said, slowly, her voice low. “No, you are not, are you?”

Loki didn’t speak. 

“How do you know these things, then?” she asked, her voice shaky. “How do you know that you – he – sent me away? That he would not talk to me? What Loki are you to come here and act like you know me?”

“Because I _do,_ ” he said, his voice filled with misery. 

“Because you were there,” she said, and reached up to touch his forehead with her index finger.

Abruptly, Loki disappeared. Verity choked back a shriek. In his place was a large black bird, with a sharp beak. She knew that bird – even if it had only been a tiny model made of water. It was the bird Loki had shown her with his child-self, with the dog and the – girl. This girl. And suddenly all the talk of Lokis made sense.

“Ikol,” Leah said, her voice emotionless. 

She was silent, then, looking at the bird expectantly. Was she waiting for it to talk?

But the bird remained quiet, and Leah narrowed her eyes at it. “I suppose you spoke enough back then, whispering lies and manipulations,” she said sharply. If a bird could look ashamed, this one did. “Fine. Shall I make it worse for you, then?”

Leah leaned forward, tapping her finger to the bird’s head, and this time Verity couldn’t hold back her gasp when the bird changed back into a person. But a smaller person. And Verity recognized him, too, from the story Loki had told.

“Is this better?” Leah asked, her voice cutting.

“Oh, yes,” the child Loki said. “Definitely. Making me wear his face.” His voice was different, certainly younger, but also somehow changed in how he spoke.

“You wore it when last I saw you,” she said, “didn’t you? That was not the Loki I knew either. And you made sure to run as fast as you could, so I wouldn’t realize it.”

Loki nodded. 

She took a deep breath. “What did you do to him?”

“I killed him.” Loki’s voice was steady.

Leah nodded. “And was it you who sent me away?”

“No. He did.”

“Because of you.” 

“Because of me.”

“Because he knew you were going to kill him.”

“Yes.” 

At Loki’s word, Leah turned her face away from him, looking at nothing. Loki shifted as if he might reach out to touch her, then jerked his hand back to his side. Leah didn’t seem to notice.

Verity’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. It was bad enough, watching her Loki interacting with Leah; watching two apparent children talking about death like this, killing one another, was awful.

“Is there anything of him left?” Leah’s voice was far away. “Is there anything of him in you?”

The child Loki swallowed hard, emotion washing over his face. “I don’t know,” he said, finally. “I don’t know. I think so. Sometimes. Sometimes I think there’s nothing left, that I am the same, the liar, the manipulator, the coward. Other times – I wasn’t like this, before.” His voice was awkward. “I didn’t care, before. Who I hurt. What I did. I killed a _child,_ ” he said, “for my own selfish reasons. And after, I was no better. I lied. I manipulated. I betrayed my – friends. But he was there, my guilty conscience, all along, refusing to let me go back to who I was, and so I tried to change, tried to clean up my mess. So is there anything left of him?” He drew a slow breath. “He let me take him over and destroy him. I thought, once, that stepping into his skin changed me. So maybe. Maybe not.”

“You took over his body. That seems like a very Loki thing to do,” Leah said. “I wondered how you were older, now. Trying to escape looking at his face in the mirror?”

“I was,” he said. “And trying to get back the power I thought he had taken from me, somehow.”

She stepped closer to him and put her hand on his chest. “And now you still wear the life you took from him.”

“I did,” Loki admitted. “But I paid for it in blood and fire. I burned – this is not the body he wore.”

Verity shivered. 

Leah’s hand on Loki’s chest closed into a ball, and he shifted back into the Loki that Verity knew. “No?”

“No. I am a different Loki, yet again.”

“Always different,” she sighed, looking sad. “But always Loki.”

Loki reached up and curled his hand around the one she rested on his chest. “Hello, Leah,” he said softly, voice full of regret. “Nice to see you, Leah. Sorry for sending you here, Leah.”

“You were protecting me.” Her odd little voice was steady again. “I heard you, when you were here. I assumed you were lying.”

_“He_ was protecting you,” Loki said. _“I_ was lying.”

_“You_ are Loki,” she said, irritated. “He was Loki. As was Ikol. You are Loki. Unlike you, thankfully, I am not an idiot.”

He smiled wistfully at the insult. “That is true. You and Verity would get along well, I think. Maybe I _should_ leave you here,” he said to Verity. 

To Verity, it seemed like kind of a horrific thing to joke about, but Leah just rolled her eyes. “You really are an idiot. Why are you here, Loki?”

“To make amends,” Loki said. “To be honest, I don’t really know. Hela sent me here.”

Leah snorted. “Well, that makes two of us, I guess. Oh, maybe you’re here to stay too! That would be funny. Hela’s sense of humor.”

“She has a sense of humor?” Verity wondered aloud.

“You can speak! I was starting to wonder,” Leah snarked. Verity just blinked at her.

Leah sighed, turning back to Loki. “So you are here to make amends to me,” she said. “How do you propose to do that? Undoing millennia of being alone?”

“We could go for milkshakes,” Loki said, his voice strained. “You could tell Verity all the horrible things you know about me.”

“That would take longer than the endless millennia,” she snipped back. But then Leah smiled, for the first time since they had arrived, softening her severe little face. “I could tell her _some_ of the horrible things I know about you.”

“You could. Would that help?”

“Maybe.” She smirked. “Might alleviate some of the boredom.”

Loki looked around the desolate landscape. “What do you _do,_ Leah?” he asked, his voice filled with remorse. “While you… wait?”

“I think,” she said. “And I remember. And sometimes I make up stories; you were better at that, but it’s better than nothing. Sometimes I write them down.”

“I have an idea,” Loki said. “To alleviate some of the boredom.” Leah gave him a skeptical look, but Loki ignored her. He was cupping his hands together, turning them as if rolling a ball of clay between them, then brought his hands to his lips and blew gently between his fingers.

When he opened his hands, there was a large glass sphere resting in his palm. No, not glass, Verity realized; it was almost iridescent, like a soap bubble made solid.

“Oh, a ball,” Leah said scornfully. “Just what I’ve always wanted.”

Loki grinned at her and took her hand, sliding the sphere into it. “Not just a ball,” he said. “Almost like a television, only better.”

As Verity and Leah watched, Loki traced his finger over the surface of the bubble, and little images faded into view: Verity wasn’t sure, but she thought some of them were actual TV shows that Loki watched.

Leah scowled. “I don’t think I need to spend my time watching stories on your little toy,” she said. “They’re probably terrible.”

“Probably,” Loki agreed. “But they’re not just stories. Not that I don’t love a good story. Or a good Netflix binge. But this is something more. Look,” he said, beckoning her closer.

Verity leaned in to get a better look too. What had seemed to be random TV shows had shifted, changed, and now she could see more familiar faces – real ones that she knew. “Oh,” Leah said, sounding surprised.

The images in the sphere blurred, then merged, like a microscope coming into focus, and Verity could see two familiar figures, both dressed in green. Leah and the child Loki were standing somewhere that Verity didn’t recognize, leaning in toward each other and talking. She couldn’t hear them, but could see Loki say something with a mischievous grin. Leah made an irritated face and shot something back at him, and child-Loki just laughed. 

“You can change it to whatever you like,” Loki said. He shrugged casually. “I mean. There’s no reason to leave it on them.”

“Hmm,” Leah said. “This is… interesting.”

“It can have sound, too,” Loki said. “Whatever you want it to do.”

“Well, _I_ could make it do that,” she said. 

He nodded. “Of course.” Leah was still watching the small figures running along in the magical video. “I thought it might be entertaining when you make up your stories.”

“And did you put stories in here too?”

“I did,” Loki said. “I’ve been very into stories lately. Ask Verity. They’re probably terrible, though,” he sighed. “My stories are always appalling.”

“Always,” Leah agreed, her voice a little less condescending. “But. It’s nice to have different ones. Although I’m sure you just stuck a lot of stupid Loki memories in here too.”

“Just to torment you,” Loki grinned. Verity let the lie pass without comment.

Leah sighed. “And now I won’t be able to forget about you, after millennia of trying to do so.”

“Ah. I can take it back, then,” Loki said, sounding unconcerned and putting out his hand. “No problem.”

With an indignant sound, Leah closed her hand around the ball and slid it into a pocket somewhere in her dress. Verity caught a flash of green and gold in the vision as it disappeared. “No take-backs.”

“Okay.”

Leah looked at him uncertainly, then suddenly threw her arms around him and violently hugged him, nearly knocking him over in surprise. He pressed his cheek against her hair. Verity turned awkwardly to stare out at the distant volcanoes, feeling distinctly like a third wheel and wishing she couldn’t hear this.

“I still hate you, you know.” Leah’s voice was muffled by Loki’s shoulder.

“I know. You should.”

“I do.” She paused. “You could stay here.”

“I could,” he agreed.

“Liar,” she complained. “No, you can’t.”

“I would,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. About all of it.”

“Whatever,” Leah said, her voice less muffled. “I don’t believe you anymore.”

“That’s good. I’m a hell of a liar,” he said. 

“You’re a terrible liar. That’s why you keep _her_ around.” Verity started at that, turning back to face the other two. Leah was standing a few steps back from Loki, her hands clasped in front of her. “Verity, veracity, keeps you honest.” She turned her attention to Verity, suddenly looking much older than her apparent age. “Good thing he can’t lie to you.” 

“Yes, well,” Verity said. Honestly, she was at a bit of a loss as to how to react to this whole mess.

Leah suddenly strode forward to where Verity was standing. She leaned in and cupped her hands around Verity's ear to whisper in it. “I’m glad he has a friend,” she murmured. “But if you ever tell him I said that, I _will_ find a way back from here and kill you. Slowly.”

Verity nodded, unsure if she wanted to laugh or run, and Leah stepped back, looking every inch a smug self-satisfied teenage girl. Loki looked indignant. “What did she say?” Verity just shook her head. Loki’s expression was pure chagrin, which seemed to make Leah even more pleased. “Oh, come on. What did she say?”

“You should go,” Leah said, sounding bored in a way that hid any emotions. “Thank you for the ball. And for dropping by.”

“Well, I hated to stop by unannounced,” Loki said, “but Hela basically threw us through a portal to get here. So I’m not quite sure how to get back.”

“To Hel? That seems like a terrible idea,” Leah said. “I would head somewhere else, if I were you. Or if I were me."

"And where would you go?"

"Home," Leah said simply, and the world around them disappeared into a roaring void.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was definitely the hardest chapter to write, and Leah the hardest character. I hope she (as well as the others) is staying true to character! We're almost at the end now...


	7. Chapter 7

Verity only realized she was screaming when the soundless nothingness around her abruptly vanished, leaving her shocked and breathless and barely upright. Her eyes were burning and she felt like all the air had been squeezed out of her chest. 

Hands were suddenly grasping her arms and Loki's voice came from in front of her. "Hey. Hey! Are you all right? Verity, tell me you're all right."

She blinked her watering eyes open. Loki was peering into her face, his panicked expression melting into relief at her apparent consciousness, and Verity pushed at him to regain a little personal space. He didn't take the hint, though he did take half a step back. "What the hell was that?" she snapped. 

"I'm not sure – Leah, I suppose." He let go of Verity, finally, his hand sliding down her arm as though he hated to part from her. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that was going to happen."

"Well, it sucked," Verity said, without much heat behind her words, her defensive anger fading. "Where– are we in your apartment?"

"Leah did say home," he said resignedly. "So here we are: back where we started. Full circle. Fitting, I suppose."

Worry began to creep down Verity's spine. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's all spirals," Loki said. He wandered a few steps away, waving his hands vaguely. "We started here, so of course we will end here. It's the classic cycle."

Verity scowled at him. "You are making no sense," she bit out. "Just stop with the storytelling bullshit and tell me what the hell is going on!"

Loki turned to her, and the expression on his face made her stomach drop. "Our lives are nothing but stories," he said, voice soft, eyes wistful. "Surely even you know Shakespeare? 'All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their entrances and exits.' We are all stories, and all stories must end."

"No no no," she said, panic rising in her throat. "You have to, you need to stop this. You – you already had an ending." Her mind was racing for an explanation, any justification. "Before. I was here. You were gone. That was your ending, right? And you're, you're here. So that means–" She was running out of words. "I mean. Doesn't it?"

"I came into this world – this me, not the original me – as a ghost, as a way to cheat death, as a way to escape all my sins without paying the piper. If my life is nothing but a story, how else can that story end, but with my exit from this world, accepting my responsibilities?"

Verity tried to find the words to explain, no, that's not how it worked at all, but she wasn't good with fiction, couldn't talk in circles the way he could. She only knew the truth: that she needed him to stay. "Loki–"

Just then, a resounding crash outside made them both jump. Looking out the window, Verity saw the source of the thunderclap: dark clouds hanging low and menacing in the leaden sky. They blocked out the sun, leavinsg the light strange and greenish. Strong gusts of wind were whipping across the empty streets, making stoplights swing precariously and bits of litter fly down the sidewalk. Dead leaves blew in angry swirls that burst apart like explosions. 

"I don't know," Loki said. For the first time, his face betrayed real fear. "I don't know what's going to happen. I– I'm sorry, for everything, for everything," he said, voice shaky. "I hope that's enough–"

Verity threw her arms around him, holding him tight, burying her face in his shoulder until she felt him hug back. "I don't care," she said, her voice smothered. "I forgive you. For whatever. I forgive you," she said, louder, to drown out the near-constant roll of thunder. _"I forgive you!"_

She was shouting over the noise, and holding fast to her best friend. She was not going to let go of him without a fight, even as she felt the magic starting to coil around them like a snake. Verity had stood by him through all his stupid hijinks, through when he managed to lie to her by omission, through his crazy past-future-whatever-self, through this literal road trip from (and to) hell. Verity was loyal, and stubborn, and this time, she was digging in her heels. 

Of course, that was only metaphorically, since they were being pulled away from the ground. Which only made Verity hate it more when the magic swallowed them up into the storm.

Verity was so, so tired of the teleportation thing, especially getting dragged away without any say in the matter. This time, it really did feel like a storm – wild wet winds tearing at her like a hurricane. She hung onto Loki, every ounce of strength trying to keep from getting blown away from him. It seemed endless, that misery, like time wasn't even passing. Verity wondered dizzily if they were trapped in the storm – was this what Loki had run from? An eternity of this?

Just then, her feet hit the ground, the howling wind suddenly ceasing and leaving them in silence. Verity caught her balance, letting go of her hands clenched in Loki's jacket and stumbling a little. 

It was dark. They were outside, in a what looked like a clearing in the middle of a forest. Dead trees surrounded them, with black branches reaching up toward the sky. The only light was the full moon above, casting a bright, eerie aura that made the hair on Verity's arms stand on end. She rubbed her hands against her arms to shake off the feeling.

Loki was looking around too, and when his eyes met Verity's, he shrugged: he had no idea where they were either. She nodded. It seemed better, somehow, to keep quiet until whatever threat there was presented itself.

But the forest seemed abandoned and empty. It was silent – not a sound came from the trees. No rustling leaves from small animals, no breeze stirring the branches. Something was wrong, Verity knew. The question was what.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting and increasing fear, there was a sound: a clap. Not a thunderclap, but the sound of two hands in derisive applause. 

"Slow clap for you both," came a familiar voice. "Look how far you've run! And yet, in the end, here you are. You couldn't escape forever. But you knew that, didn't you, _boy_."

Verity stared blankly in disbelief as the Old Loki stepped out of the shadows, smiling triumphantly. She wanted to say something, shout something, but her mouth was dry.

"This has been you, all along?" Loki said. "Well. Had I known the storm was just you trying to catch up with me to yell some more, I wouldn't have been so concerned."

"Oh, more than that, little Loki," his older self said. "I'm here to finish what I started."

"And that is…?"

"Why, to make it all better, or course," Old Loki sneered. "For me, that is. For you… well, it will be better in the end, at least. It's only in the present that you'll suffer."

"I'm really not that fond of the idea," Loki answered. "What if I refuse?"

Old Loki laughed. "You are here, in this place of magic, because here, I have enough power even to rip apart the God of Lies," he smirked. "And this time? It _will_ stick, as you said. There will be no coming back from this death. There will be nothing left of you, afterward. Not even a smudge on the floor."

Every word rang true in Verity's ears. She shuddered involuntarily. Loki looked over at her warily, and she looked back without any reaction. He nodded: she didn't need to say it out loud.

"She knows I'm right," Old Loki gloated. _"You_ know I'm right. So what will it be? Cake or death? I won't even bother tying you up, this time. That gave you too much time to find a way to weasel out, apparently." He glared at Loki. "So instead, you can give me your answer now, or I'll just kill your BFF here. And then I suspect you'll wind up on the dark side of the Force anyway, because wouldn't it be so easy to take your revenge? You know, anger leads to hate, hate leads to killing people…"

Every muscle in Verity's body was frozen. He had backed Loki into a corner, and all three of them knew it; Loki's expression was flat, but his eyes were darting around, looking for a literal or metaphorical way out. But this was the endgame. Old Loki was powerful, and evil, and crazy enough that he would enjoy every minute of every terrible thing he had to do to get what he wanted. 

"Or you can just die," Old Loki said, pretending to think about it. "That would be just fine by me too."

"Lie," Verity said automatically. Shit. She hadn't meant to say that, hadn't meant to say _anything,_ but it just popped out.

Old Loki turned out her, his eyes blazing. "You! Pathetic mortal girl. You think he's really your friend? That you're his, what, best and only friend? Or what, that he _loves_ you? Aww. How _sweet._ Is this a romance that will end in tragedy? That makes it even better, I think. Because you're going to die first, in front of him, still thinking that he actually _cares_ about you. When I can tell you that no Loki cares for anyone except himself!"

"That's a lie too," said another voice from behind Verity, and she turned in surprise to see four new figures had arrived on the scene. Two were strangers to her, but she recognized the other two from the beginning of her and Loki's road trip: Billy Kaplan and Teddy Altman. The two women with them looked familiar, and it clicked – they were in the group photos she'd seen. 

Billy was standing in front of the others, clearly the one who had just spoken. "And she's not his only friend," he continued. "He has us."

Old Loki laughed, high and hysterical. "This is too perfect," he cackled. "Even more fodder to perish, all of your deaths at Loki's feet." He turned to his younger self. "Look! They think they are your friends. That you can actually put anyone, ever, ahead of yourself. Isn't that just adorable?"

Loki looked utterly dumbstruck. He blinked at the group as if he couldn't believe that he was actually seeing them. "How are you even here?"

Teddy pointed at the other two. "Kate got America," he said. "And America got us here."

America grinned. "I told them, I can track you anywhere. In any dimension. Just in case you need to be punched."

"Please don't," Loki said, eyes widening. America just raised an eyebrow. "But – why?"

"Why find you?" Billy asked. "You looked like you were in some kind of trouble, when you were at the apartment."

"So what?" Loki answered. "Why would that matter?"

"Because we're your friends, you dumbass," Kate broke in. "Even after everything."

"They're your _friends!"_ Old Loki was practically squealing with glee. "Do you see? Do you see what you are inflicting on everyone around you? Nothing but lies," he said smugly. _"You_ are nothing but lies."

"We are his friends," Billy said, keeping his voice calm, which Verity thought was pretty impressive. "He came to us for no reason but to apologize and make amends."

"And not only them," Verity added. "He went to his family, to – others. Not for himself. But for them."

"He's not you," America said, her voice low and final.

Old Loki sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're all lovely people," he said, "and now you're all going to die."

He whipped his hands up in a flash of motion and green light, and before Verity could even react, the magic was shooting at them like lightning. By the time she could even scream, a purplish-blue shield of energy had sprung up from the ground to block the green bolts.

"No!" Old Loki shouted, flinging another sizzling handful at them, which bounced off the shield as well. He followed it with another attack, and another.

Verity spun to see Billy focusing on the shield, clearly holding it up with magic and willpower. Teddy was huddled with Kate and America, gesturing rapidly as Kate shook her head and talked over him. They were inaudible over the shattering sounds of magic hitting magic. "Loki!" Verity shouted.

On the opposite side of the shield, Loki turned in her direction. "Stay there!" he shouted back.

"You _think?"_ She didn't mean to bite back, but it was just such a dumb thing for him to say. The shield was the only thing keeping her from getting fried. Inexplicably, that made Loki smile fondly at her. "You need to help Billy!"

He looked over at Billy, who was doggedly focusing on the shield, but clearly couldn't hold out forever against Old Loki's repeated attacks. "I can't," Loki said, his voice heavy.

"Why not?"

"I'm on the wrong side," Loki said. The twinge behind Verity's eyes told her he was doing that thing again where he was saying two things at once. "I don't have a choice."

"You do," Verity insisted, but Loki just shook his head. 

"This is all my fault," he said hollowly. "I'm the only one who can fix this." 

Verity tried to argue, but Loki was already shaking his head and walking toward the blazing magic. "Hey! Other me! Stop that. I have something to say."

Old Loki whirled around, suddenly giddy. "I knew it!" he crowed. "Little Loki would do anything to save his reputation, and his skin." 

"Nope." Loki held out his hands, palms-up, as though he was a magician with nothing up his sleeves. "I'm out. You win."

His older self eyed him suspiciously, then sent one more blast of magic crashing into Billy's energy shield. "And what do you mean by that?" he asked, stalking forward as the sizzling sounds faded. "Another trick? Another trap?"

"Not this time." Loki smiled pleasantly. "Do it. Kill me. Just let them go, first."

Voices rose from next to Verity, but they were an incomprehensible hum.

"Really, I'd rather kill all of them," Old Loki said conversationally. 

"I know," Loki replied, just as calm. "But I want you to let them all go. Then you can destroy me, or whatever it is you want."

"But what if what I _want_ is to destroy them?" Old Loki sounded petulant. "You'll ruin all my fun."

"But you'll have me," Loki wheedled, as though bribing a small child. "Isn't that better?"

Without warning, there was a sudden shout, and Billy's shield dropped. The four of them charged Old Loki in what was clearly a choreographed plan – Kate's bow a blur of arrows, America and Teddy charging forward (with a sudden shapechange by Teddy that left Verity startled), Billy drawing down jagged blue magic and sending it crackling across the clearing, eerily lighting up the dead trees around them.

Verity held her breath, unable to think of anything else to do in that moment, watching the team launch their attack at Old Loki. This was it, please let this be it, please let them take him down–

With a flick of his fingers, Old Loki froze them all in place. The energy bolts fizzled and died, leaving the air silent as he rounded on his younger self. "So this was the plan?" he asked, low and angry. "Distract me, so that they could attack?"

"No," Loki said. He sounded upset, his voice choked with emotion. "No, that was stupid of them. Trying to save me. Why would you do that?" he shouted at the four silent, immobilized forms. "Why would you do that to yourselves?"

"Neither of you understand," Verity said loudly. Both Lokis turned to look at her, and she felt the desperation and anger and fear all drain away, leaving her empty. What did she have left to lose, if she lost Loki?

"What are you still doing here?" Old Loki scowled. "This is a battle of Lokis."

"This is no battle at all," Loki said. "This is a surrender."

"This is _stupid_ ," Verity said, unable to contain herself. Both Lokis looked startled. "You're sacrificing yourself? For what? For us? You won't save us by throwing yourself on the grenade. You'll just become the grenade." She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "How is that going to help any of us? Do you think this is how any of us want to spend the rest of our lives? Knowing that you gave yourself up for us when there was another way?"

"There is no other way," Old Loki growled. 

"There is," Verity insisted. She walked forward, toward both Lokis, feeling both nervous and unstoppable at the same time. "It's just that neither of you understand." She almost stumbled over a tree root that hadn't been there a moment ago, and shot Old Loki a glare. That was just petty.

"Verity," Loki said, in a worried undertone. 

She just shook her head. "I understand," she said to him. "I know why you're doing this. You think it's all your fault." Verity waved her hand, vaguely indicating the others frozen in the clearing and meaning everything, in general. "You've said it so many times. You're always running from your guilt."

"From what I've done," Loki said.

"From how it feels," Verity said. "You think that's what's going to destroy you. That guilt. And that's what _he_ keeps telling you!" She pointed over at Old Loki, who was standing with his arms crossed. "He wants it to pull you down into whatever special hell he's in. But you don't have to become him."

"That's what I thought too," Loki said. "But we're here. There's no other way for me to save you all. I can't run from him."

"Of course not," Verity said, impatient. "You can't run away from the things you don't like about yourself. You think I like everything about myself? You think any of us do? Deep down, none of us think we're good enough. But we keep pushing that rock up the hill. We keep trying. And he's telling you to give up." Old Loki started to speak, but Verity, having given up on self-preservation again, cut him off. "But he's wrong. It's not about how you feel, or what you've done; it's about what you're going to do. The future."

"It doesn't matter," Loki insisted. "I can't make up for what I've done. This was me trying – it wasn't enough. He's still always going to be waiting for me. My punishment for being Loki is being Loki."

"God of Lies," Old Loki chimed in, sing-song.

"Oh, for– I– dammit, the one you lie to most of all is yourself!" Verity shouted, exasperated. "You need to see–" 

And then it struck her, how to _make_ him see. Verity leaned in to Loki, and grasped both his hands in hers, the way he had when they were on the Isle of Silence. "I don't know how to make this work," she said, the words rushing out as she slid her hands up to cup his face, her fingertips against his temples, "but you have to _look!"_

The magic roared to life around her, and Verity couldn't hold in a shriek. It wasn't at all like the magic on the Isle of Silence; it was like a howling storm around them, a storm made of golden, screeching energy. Loki's eyes were locked onto hers, his expression unreadable, as the crescendo of sound started to resolve into voices, into words. Verity could make out bits and pieces – voices she recognized, Lorelei, Thor, Leah, Angela, Billy and Teddy and America and Kate; and voices she didn't know, talking about Loki, talking to Loki. But none of them were angry. For once, all the voices in the rushing wind were friendly, companionable, encouraging, forgiving. 

Then there were visions, images, rising around them in the hurricane, making Verity dizzy. This was what she was trying to show him – that he was more than the wrongs he'd done to others. That there was bad, there was good – both, no more so than anyone else now.

Abruptly, the magical storm ended, dying away as suddenly as it had started. Verity realized that Loki had drawn her hands away from his face, holding her hands as he had before. "Never mind the harm you've done," Verity said shakily. "What good will you do now?"

Just like that, Loki smiled. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Verity's forehead. "You are amazing," he said, beaming at her. "My best friend."

"You dropped the _only_ ," she said, pretending to be offended.

"I did," he said, looking sheepish. "Apparently."

Old Loki's angry, petulant voice rang across the clearing. "Can we not do this now?" he huffed. "Go have your little romance some other time. Oh wait, you can't, because I'm going to _kill you all."_

"No, you're not," Loki said, still looking at Verity. "And I know why not."

Old Loki casually shot a bolt of green lightning at Verity.

Loki made a disappointed sound as he easily batted it away. "Really? Don't be that guy. Your time is up, old one," he said, shaking his head. "Let me tell you why."

"Oh goody, a monologue." Old Loki yawned. "Boring."

"Then let's liven it up," Loki said, and to Verity's surprise, waved his hand at his frozen friends and released them. They didn't even pause, continuing mid-assault on Old Loki, who flinched and pulled a magical shield around himself, obviously caught unprepared. "Behold, the power of friendship."

"Lies!" he shouted.

"No, let's be honest," Loki said, stalking toward his older self. "Verity, back me up: you hate me because I do have friends." Verity nodded, though no one was looking at her. "You want to change that, make me like you – miserable. You hate me because I have Verity, who inexplicably stands by me, who forgives me. They forgive me. Even though I don't deserve it!" he shouted, over the blasts of magic and general tumult. Old Loki's shield was wearing down; his divided attention was straining his magic. 

"No, you don't!" Old Loki shouted back, all forced campiness gone, leaving only cold anger. "You deserve nothing! Certainly not forgiveness!"

Loki strode forward, holding up a hand towards his friends, who paused their assault. He pushed right through Old Loki's barrier and grabbed him by the fur at his collar. "But," he said, his voice steady and clear, "if the people I have hurt insist on forgiving me, who am I to argue?"

Old Loki shoved his hand away. "They're all fools."

"See, there's one part missing," Loki said. "One piece I never understood. I thought I was so strong, fueled by my hatred of you, my anger at what you wanted from me. I was wrong. Someone told me recently that being strong is letting go of anger and hate." He paused, looking his older self squarely in the eye. "And that is forgiveness."

Old Loki gave a derogatory sniff. "Again. Stupidity on their part to do so."

"No, not them," Loki said. "Me. I didn't know how to be strong, until now. Not to refuse the forgiveness of those I have wronged, not to insist that I am beyond that. And to be someone who forgives."

"Shut up," Old Loki said, clearly readying another attack. Verity bit her lip.

"Love saved us all, once," Loki said, glancing over at Billy and Teddy, "and I didn't understand it. To be honest, it's still kind of a mystery. But I'm willing to try and figure it out. Try to find that strength. And, weirdly? I may not know how to forgive myself, but I forgive you."

"SHUT UP," Old Loki said, eyes full of fire, magic crackling around him. 

Loki didn't seem to notice. "You've been acting out of pain, and out of desperation to end that pain," he said. "You never wanted to be forgiven, because you knew you never deserved it." He leaned in, almost conspiratorial. "The funny thing is? As it turns out, being forgiven has nothing to do with whether you deserve it. Whether someone forgives you or you forgive yourself. It's the person who forgives, who has the strength to do that, who grants you that grace."

The clearing was silent, tense with anticipation and barely held back magic. 

"I forgive you," Loki said. 

"NO," Old Loki shouted, demanding his due. "No, you DON'T. You don't GET TO–"

"I forgive you," Loki repeated, stepping forward and putting his hand on Old Loki's chest.

"No!" Tears were streaming down the wrinkled, miserable face, still twisted in hatred and anger. "NO–"

"I forgive you," Loki said, softly this time. "Now go."

And just like that, he was gone.

It was as if the universe opened up and swallowed him whole, as if there was momentarily an Old-Loki-shaped hole in the world that snapped shut a moment later. There was a POP, like someone had cracked their bubblegum. And he was gone.

Verity looked around. She wasn't the only one feeling disconcerted; Billy and Teddy, Kate and America were all gazing around in shock, starting to lean in toward each other in relief. Loki was standing still, chin tilted up, looking at the sky.

She hadn't even realized it as dawn broke. Light the color of rose-gold was just starting to streak the sky. Mottled with purplish-blue clouds, the sky was starting to streak pink behind the tree branches, turning to gold as the sun rose behind the bare tree branches. 

"Is it over?" Verity said, knowing the answer.

Loki looked over at her. "I don't know. But that is how the story ends."

Verity shook her head. "Stop talking nonsense."

"Maybe it's not nonsense," Billy chimed in. "I took a class on metafiction and narrative dynamics. We are all authors of our own stories. Sort of," he said, suddenly looking bashful. 

"That was the thing I realized, back when all this began," Loki said. "Lies are just stories."

"Writing fiction is just lying on paper," Billy added. "What? I listened in that class!"

Verity shook her head. "So you're, what, the God of Stories now?"

Loki shrugged. "Maybe. It has a nice ring to it."

"So does God of Bullshit," Kate offered.

"God of Terrible Plans," Teddy said. 

Loki was looking comically offended. Verity grinned. "You know, I always thought of you as the God of Hipster Cooking," she said.

"Not you too," he complained. "This is why I don't like letting my friends meet each other."

Verity laughed, along with the others, and she slid an arm around her friend's waist. "Come on," she said, "let's go home."

 

=== EPILOGUE ===

"This is the story of Loki," Loki intoned solemnly. "Unwanted, unloved, his friends using him for their own–"

"Oh, shut up!" Exasperated, Verity flicked the dish towel at him. "You're the one who invited everyone here for brunch. And I am here! Helping! You!" She punctuated each word with another flick of the towel until they were both laughing. 

"That's all I meant," Loki said. "They're using me for pancakes."

"I heard pancakes!" Kate yelled from the other room.

Verity smacked him with the dish towel again. "Finish the pancakes. I'll bring out the rest."

The dining room table was already half-covered (and Verity wasn't even sure if Loki's apartment had always even had a dining room) but she shifted things around to fit the bagels and three different types of cream cheese in between the glazed strawberry muffins and the champagne-flute mimosas. Kate, clearly lured by the promise of pancakes, had wandered into the dining room from the loud chattering living room, and pressed a mimosa into Verity's hand. "For god's sake, take a drink and come sit with us," Kate said. "Let him finish his cooking like the four-star chef he thinks he is." 

Loki made a complain-y noise from the kitchen to indicate that he'd heard her, and Verity laughed. "I think you have a good plan, there." 

"Verityyy!" Loki always managed to whine out the last syllable of her name. "Don't leave me!"

"Tough crap," Kate called back. "She's one of us now. America just got here and we're taking bets on whether your pancakes will have fruit in them or some complicated flavor like bourbon vanilla maple something."

"Neither," Loki said, emerging from the kitchen with a big plate. "My pancake game is pure. Straightforward fluffy buttermilk goodness."

Verity took a sip of her mimosa as the others made their way into the dining room, filling plates with food and returning to the living room to sit and talk and eat. Kate was there, and America, and Billy and Teddy of course; and apparently a couple of other people they all knew were invited but hadn't arrived yet. Loki had confided to her that he had invited Angela, but she had declined. Verity couldn't imagine having that terrifying woman in the apartment, but Loki had been excited that Angela had agreed to some other kind of meetup, and Verity suspected she'd get roped into going as well.

There was so much noise, talking and laughter and clinking of forks against plates. The apartment that had once been desolate, destroyed, was filled with people and food and friendship. It was hard to believe that there had been a time before this camaraderie.

Verity nudged Loki over on the couch, pushing him over to make room. He nudged her back, grinning at her, and Verity sat down, affectionately elbowing him out of the way. She took a bite of pancakes. "Well?" Loki said, expectantly.

"It's all good," Verity said, meaning the pancakes, and Loki, and everything. Her sixth sense didn't even ping at the mixed meanings. 

Loki leaned back with a contented sigh, stretching out his stupidly long legs and curling an arm lazily around her shoulders. "It's all good."

 

=== THE END ===

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! It took a ridiculously long time to write but meant too much to give up on. Endings are toughest to write and this was no exception - working out the ending was definitely a big part of the time this took, especially to figure out how to write an ending that was different from the coms but without totally invalidating the ideas - but I knew the epilogue would bring us full circle. And much like Loki's friends, thank you for sticking with me until the end of this story! :D


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